


A Winter's Tale

by LadyMadrigal



Series: The Kensington Tales [2]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Holidays, M/M, Past Abuse, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:00:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 50,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22109755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMadrigal/pseuds/LadyMadrigal
Summary: An AU where Aziraphale Shepard is Jim Beach's sweet but shy secretary and Crowley Deveraux-Gordon is an up-and-coming rock star and one of Jim's newest clients. Jim's other famous clients, Queen, along with the rest of the office, are wondering when Aziraphale is going to figure out that Crowley is in love with him.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: The Kensington Tales [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941532
Comments: 73
Kudos: 142





	1. Office Life

**Author's Note:**

> This is rewritten from a series of stories I wrote for the old Queen fanfiction group on Yahoo! Groups. I was Maddy on that site if anyone remembers. I loved the chaotic mess of an office I created. 
> 
> And in real life, I'm a secretary, And about as much of a neurotic mess as Aziraphale Shepard sometimes.
> 
> And I know Jim Beach wasn't a named partner, but bear with me. It's an AU, it's completely anachronistic and it's not supposed to make sense :)

It was about nine-fifteen on a Thursday morning. Up in the law offices of Beach & Lockwood, Jim Beach’s secretary Aziraphale Shepard was having problems. One of the copiers, instead of producing a duplicate of whatever was put in the feeder, was spewing out solid black pages. Prue, the office manager, had ordered computers for the two new partners before leaving for vacation but no monitors, since she thought those were only for “games and such.” It was the twelfth of December and the air conditioning was on in the building. 

The. Air. Conditioning. 

The main phone rang and Vikki Barrett, the blonde receptionist, grabbed it. “Like, uh, hi, Beach and, uh, Lockwood?”

Tomorrow night was the big holiday party at the Grand, then three weeks off while the office closed for the holidays. Which would have been nice had he had anyone to spend them with. He couldn’t go home – his theologian father and devout homemaking mother had cut him off cold after figuring out he was gay. He lived alone in a small flat where pets were expressly forbidden. He was so shy and retiring that it was very hard for him to really make friends, and the ones he did have were all going home to their families. 

He really wasn’t looking forward to it. He just wanted someone to be with. Someone who wanted him around, a big sparkly Christmas tree, everyone opening presents, all laughing and happy. He didn’t know where he’d gotten that idea from – he’d certainly never had that kind of Christmas in the sternly puritanical family he’d grown up in. 

So far, the only thing that had gone right that day was that everyone had liked the fancy chocolates and pen sets he’d gotten them. He’d also been quite surprised to find a bunch of gift bags on his desk. Sometimes he was surprised that anyone actually liked him. He’d followed his boyfriend to London, only to get dumped cold about three months later. He’d just come home one night and found Gabriel – and his things – gone. Fortunately, he’d found a smaller place he could actually afford nearer to the office. He hadn’t realized when he took this job that Jim Beach was more of a manager/lawyer and had some very famous clients – Queen among them. Much to his relief, they’d turned out to be very nice. So was the other band Jim was now working with – Apocalypse Not. He actually quite liked the job, which was a good thing, because, insult to injury, Gabriel had turned up several months ago, now dating the none-too-bright receptionist, Vikki. So not only had he been ghosted, he’d been ghosted for a pneumatic blonde with exactly one brain cell. Vikki was blissfully unaware that she was slowly destroying him with every TMI tale of every date. He didn’t have the heart to tell her; she really wasn’t a bad person, just not too bright, and she seemed so happy. But still…

Which leads us to the small matter of Crowley Deveraux-Gordon, Apocalypse Not’s singer and guitarist. He even looked like the penultimate rock star. Tall, slim and utterly gorgeous with long wavy red hair and eyes that were usually hidden behind sunglasses but were actually also quite gorgeous, huge and a very pale hazel, just a bit darker than amber, to quote the book title. They were quite striking against that red hair. He was almost always dressed entirely in black, although sometimes he wore red. Underneath his glam rock exterior, however, he was a nerdy, anxious mess who actually tried far too hard to be cool, had a serious talent for overthinking things, leading to some comical – and catastrophic – screwups, and only wanted everyone to love him. 

And he’d befriended our dear Aziraphale. Who was now hopelessly, utterly, completely smitten with him; and was also certain that Crowley did not feel the same way. 

“Uh, like, Zira? There’s like a Mr. Aye Chihuahua like on the phone for Jim. Like what should I do?” Vikki said anxiously. Jim was in a meeting. 

“Put him over to my line. I’ll handle it,” Aziraphale replied with a sigh. He wasn’t even going to try to ask about the name. 

“Okay,” Vikki said, then picked up the phone. “Mr. Chihuahua? Like, I’m gonna put you over to Zira, okay? Like hang on----” Without waiting, she transferred the call, or tried to, anyway. When Aziraphale’s line rang, he found himself talking to a dial tone. 

“Vikki, what did you---” he started, but as soon as he put the phone down, it rang again. He grabbed it before Vikki could do anything. “Good morning, Beach and Lockwood.”

“Zira? Hey, how are you? It’s Hiro.” Hiro Ichikawa was a friend of Jim’s and fellow lawyer - who fortunately had a wonderful sense of humor. “Is Jim available?”

“No, but he will be in about ten minutes,” Aziraphale said, relieved. Aye Chihuahua, indeed.

Ten minutes later, the front door opened onto Hiro and a white-satin-clad figure with dark glossy shoulder-length hair - none other than the inimitable Freddie Mercury. 

“Hello, my beauties!” he called in his usual grand style. “Aziraphale, darling, you’re looking even more fetching than usual. Something must have agreed with you last night.” He winked.

It took Aziraphale a moment, then he blushed. “I--uh, no, not really. I just read for a while and then went to bed.” That was a lie. He’d planned on doing that, but had gotten watching some stupid rom-com Hallmark Channel type movie instead and wound up crying himself to sleep on the sofa. 

“Anything good?” Freddie leaned on the low wall surrounding the secretarial bay. 

_“Neverwhere._ Crowley said he thought I’d like it.”

“He fancies you, dear. He’s going to ask you to go with him to the holiday party. Just a heads-up,” Freddie smiled. He and the rest of the office were taking bets on when Crowley, who was in his own weird way as shy as the timid Aziraphale, was going to finally ask the angelic blonde secretary out. It was comically obvious to everyone at Beach and Lockwood that Crowley was absolutely, utterly, completely and helplessly smitten with Aziraphale Shepard. 

Well, obvious to everyone save for Aziraphale Shepard himself, that is. 

“No, he isn’t. And besides, I can’t go. I wouldn’t even know what to wear.” Aziraphale looked slightly panicky.

Before Freddie could make any suggestions, Vikki, who’d been pecking slowly - very slowly - away at her computer suddenly cried, “Zira, like what do I do?! I’m like out of printer paper!”

“Use copier paper,” Aziraphale replied. 

Vikki obediently took her last blank sheet over to the one working copier and ran off fifteen copies. 

It was going to be a very long day......

~*~  
_Six months earlier:_

“You’ve got to be kidding me. He dumped you for that?” Crowley looked around out the breakroom door, where Vikki was babbling away happily about last night’s sexcapades with “Gabie Baby.”

Aziraphale nodded. He’d quietly escaped the conversation by slipping into the breakroom, where he was pretending to be looking for something in the refrigerator. 

“They’re both idiots, then,” Crowley concluded. Jim Beach’s expertise in getting Queen out of a bad contract hadn’t been the only reason he’d insisted his band go with him, too. There was also the matter of his secretary, who was quite seriously the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. Not to mention the shyest. It had been a good three months before he’d figured out what color Zira’s eyes were, given how infrequently he was actually able to make eye contact with anyone. 

“Well…” Aziraphale hadn’t known how to react to that. Surely there was no chance that Crowley was flirting with him? Of course not. Things like that just Did Not Happen. It was the rule. Whose rule, he didn’t know, but it was. Apparently. 

“By the way, I was meaning to ask you – what’s Zira short for?” Somehow the name was completely incongruous and completely perfect all at once for someone so sweetly platinum blonde and plump. He mostly dressed in browns, beiges and occasionally blue, which, coupled with his pale blonde curls, pert nose and big expressive blue eyes, made him look positively ethereal. 

“Aziraphale.” He picked up a mug, looking at it instead of Crowley, although he snuck a few shy side glances that the guitarist didn’t miss. “My father’s a professor of theology and my mother is – well, very devout - and they named me Aziraphale Zachariah. After an angel.” He looked up at Crowley, just for a moment. “I’m afraid I quite let them down. Here my father and brothers are with multiple degrees and here I am just barely bright enough to earn a living doing something which requires no thought. At least according to them, anyway.” He couldn’t believe he’d just said all that. Especially to Crowley, who most assuredly didn’t care about any of it. 

“Don’t say that about yourself. I’ve seen you in action around the office. I could never do what you do. I’d never keep anything straight.” For all his timidity, Aziraphale was actually quick-thinking, good in a crisis and very good at calming difficult clients down, although he’d usually be shaking when he got off the phone.

“I wanted to be a writer. You can see how that – worked out…” Aziraphale looked up, just for a moment, then back at the floor. 

“It’s never too late, you know,” Crowley said, wishing he could gather Aziraphale up in his arms, stroke his hair and tell him everything was going to be all right. He always seemed so sad. _Do go easy with him, darling,_ Freddie had said. _He’s a fragile little thing. He does fancy you, but he’s too shy to ever admit it._

“Gabriel said that I don’t have any talent.”

“And we can see what kind of taste he has, angel,” Crowley said. “Dumping you for – that.”

Aziraphale looked up with the beginnings of a shy smile. “Angel?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, you are named after one.” Crowley’s heart melted. How could anyone be that adorable?

“Uh – okay.” He’d actually smiled then, and Crowley knew that whatever it took, Aziraphale Shepard was going to be his angel.

~*~

Since then, Aziraphale had started thinking, much to his surprise, that Crowley might actually like him. He seemed to go out of his way to talk to him every time he stopped by the office – which was frequently. They’d even graduated to meeting up outside work from time to time, although not on actual “dates.” Just the other day, Aziraphale had come back from lunch to find an angel wing mug on his desk – a gift from Crowley for absolutely no reason whatsoever apparently, since he’d found a cute pothos in a little pot with an angel on it amid the other gift bags this morning, also from Crowley. He suspected it might have been a rootling from one of Crowley’s houseplants. 

~*~

“Zira, you’re joining us, aren’t you?” Holly, the third of the three secretaries, said, poking her head out of the breakroom. It was twelve-thirty, the technician had finally arrived and was currently dismantling the copier. Since it was also their main printer, it was obvious nothing was going to actually get done anytime soon. 

“Well, uh – yeah, I mean, if you don’t mind my joining you, that is…” He could never quite shake the feeling that he was intruding. 

“You’re always welcome to join us. You don’t need to ask,” Maddy reminded him gently. 

“Room for one more? Or would I be intruding?” That was Crowley, coming in with a bag from the Chinese takeout place nearby. “I did pick up some food in case no one wants their sandwiches.”

“Crowley, everyone’s always welcome. Except maybe Prue,” Holly said. 

“Where is she?” Maddy said. 

“I took her to the airport yesterday, remember?” Aziraphale said. Crowley had to smile. While Maddy was in a fuzzy black sweater and long slim gray skirt and Holly was looking very elegant in olive and peach, his darling Aziraphale was dressed in brown trousers, a blue shirt and brown argyle sweater vest. His tan coat was hanging on a nearby rack. The outfit just screamed for a bow tie, preferably tartan, Crowley thought. The fact that Aziraphale apparently didn’t know what century it was when it came to fashion only made Crowley adore him more.

“You’re really trying for sainthood, aren’t you, angel? She’s toxic.” Crowley looked over his dark glasses and Aziraphale blushed slightly. Crowley was, of course, all in snug-fitting black save for a dark red scarf draped casually around his shoulders. 

“Crowley? Thanks for the plant. That was – really sweet of you.” Aziraphale looked even shyer than usual. 

“Aw. I saw that pot and thought of you. I’m glad you like it. And hey, angel?”

“What?”

“I do really like you. You know?” It was more like totally loved, adored and worshipped the ground he walked on. Although, to be fair, Crowley really did like him, too. 

Aziraphale blushed. “I…” He was saved from self-degeneration by Holly’s startled squawk. “No way!”

“What is it?” Aziraphale inquired, a bit timidly, going in with Crowley following.

Holly looked around from the fridge, water bottle in one hand and a box in the other. “I’m assuming the seven boxes of edible panties in the fridge aren’t yours, Mad.”

“Seven boxes of what?” Maddy, Aziraphale and Crowley exclaimed, more or less in unison. 

In reply, Holly held up a rather lurid box of “Lick My Lemon” flavored panties. 

“I thought it was “squeeze my lemon, honey,” Crowley said.

“Oh, those are like mine and all!” Vikki giggled, coming in. “Gabie-Baby and I are gonna have a Cuddle-Night!” 

“I really could have gone the rest of my life without imagining that,” Aziraphale said. 

“Yeah, right?” Crowley made a face, then looked at Aziraphale with a wry, sympathetic smile. _The first thing I’m going to do when you’re mine is take you to bed and make love to you for three days straight. Then I’m going to buy you a car that isn’t held together with gaffer tape._ He’d seen the remnants of Aziraphale’s battered Mini Cooper. _And our first album is going to be devoted to telling the entire world how much I love you. I promise you all that, angel. And the world._

“Yeah, but -- liquid panties?” Maddy looked at the blonde receptionist in bewilderment. 

“I think they’re more like one of those fruit roll-up thingies,” Holly said, taking out a pair to look at them. “Vikki, you are aware that these are three to a box?”

“Well, like, I didn’t like know what flavor Gabie-Baby would like best and all…” Vikki giggled. 

“Okay, too much information,” Crowley said quickly, looking around at Freddie Mercury, who’d had to come see this for himself.

Holly read off some of the boxes. “Mango Muff?” “Ménage A Trois?” “Grab My Grape?” “Penis Colada?” 

“Oh…dear.” Aziraphale quickly slipped out past them, thinking he’d heard his cellphone ring. 

“Very creative, darling,” Freddie deadpanned, then looked at Crowley. “Maybe that’s an idea if you haven’t thought of anything yet.”

Crowley gave him a funny look. “For what?” 

“For you, dearheart. For date night with your angel,” Freddie said with an adorably wicked smile. 

Crowley finally caught on and blushed about fifteen shades redder than his hair. “God, Freddie!” He put his hands over his face for a moment, then looked through his fingers at the singer, eyes wide. “Be serious. You have no idea how much I love him…” He put his hands down. “And for fuck’s sake, he’s not like that. He’s the kind of guy you court.” Which Crowley wasn’t quite sure how to do, but he was working on it. 

The phone rang for real and Vikki scampered over to grab it this time. “Like, Beach and --- OOOOOOH! GABIE-BABY!!!!!”

Crowley took the opportunity to sneak away and find Aziraphale, who had realized it wasn’t his phone. He still harbored a forlorn hope that his parents might have kept the number he’d given then in a letter and might – just might – forgive him. Given some of the theological points his father had argued in essays, thought, he doubted it. 

“Angel? You okay?” Crowley had caught just a glimpse of Aziraphale’s forlorn expression before he turned around and tried to smile, although it took too long to reach his eyes. 

Aziraphale nodded. 

“There’s something I was meaning to ask you,” Crowley knew he had to ask now or lose his nerve altogether. “Were you – planning on going to the holiday party? The one Jim’s having at the Grand?”

“I…” Aziraphale hadn’t been planning on it at all – parties made him even more shy than usual. He usually ended up hiding out until he could leave early. Besides, if Gabriel was going to be there with Vikki…

“Would you - go with me? Please?” Crowley bit his lip; certain he was about to be turned down. 

“Uh…okay. Sure.” Aziraphale’s timidity had kicked in full-force and he couldn’t even meet Crowley’s gaze. His heart was hammering and he hoped the guitarist couldn’t see that he was shaking. “Okay, yeah.”

“Oh angel, you just made my entire year!” Crowley exclaimed, leaning over the desk to hug him quickly. “How about if I pick you up at seven? That should give us plenty of time to get over there.”

Aziraphale nodded, his eyes very wide. He was certain he was about to wake up and find out that absolutely none of this was happening. 

“It’ll be fun, really.” Crowley leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I can’t wait!”

“Hey, Crowley? Come here a minute. Question for you.” That was Jim.

“Wait here, angel,” Crowley said, too hyper to realize how little sense it made. He couldn’t resist giving Aziraphale another quick peck on the cheek before hurrying off. 

Aziraphale’s hand fluttered – yes, fluttered, Freddie thought – to his cheek where the guitarist’s lips had touched him. He looked so dumbfounded that the singer had to laugh. 

“I told you, darling,” he said. 

~*~

“I can’t believe I said yes…” Aziraphale was saying dismally. It was later and Crowley had left for the studio, albeit not without sneaking another quick hug and quick chance to tell his angel how happy he was again. “He’s just going to find out how boring I am and hate me.”

“You’re not boring,” Holly said.

“For another thing, can’t you see that he’s absolutely mad about you?” Freddie said. 

“I don’t even know what to wear.” Aziraphale put his hands over his face. “I don’t have anything formal.”

“It isn’t formal, Zira. And we’re all glad you’ll be there,” Jim said with a smile, looking around from attempting to toss a crumpled ball of paper into a wastebasket and not have it deflected by the fan. Things at the office were slow. “And before you ask, no, I have absolutely no problem with you going out with him.”

“But I’m…not.” Aziraphale looked down. “I think he must just feel sorry for me.”

“Darling, he’s absolutely mad about you. Entranced, besotted, utterly enraptured!” Freddie made a comically grandiose gesture, then sobered slightly and leaned over the low wall surrounding the secretarial bay.  
“And you’re likewise about him, right?”

Aziraphale looked away, but nodded. 

“So why are you so anxious, dear?”

“Because…because I…” Aziraphale’s voice broke and he put his hands over his face. “Because I’m ugly and fat and I’m n-nothing and he’s…he’s…I don’t know what he could possibly see in me!” He turned away, unable to stifle a sob.

“Darling, you’re none of the above,” Freddie scolded gently, going around the wall to rub his back. “And I’m not going to have you talking about yourself so badly. It just won’t do.” 

It took a few minutes for poor Aziraphale to get control of himself. He finally fumbled for the box of tissues on the corner of his desk. Freddie handed it to him. 

“I just wish I was...I…I…I don’t know. Something…” He blew his nose and looked at them, his blue eyes blurred with tears. 

“Zira darling, don’t cry. Please,” Freddie said gently. “After work, your Fairy Godfather is taking you shopping. Your darling Crowley is not going to be able to take his eyes off of you. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“You forget I don’t have money…” Aziraphale sniffled. Rent and an unexpected car repair had wiped him out until next payday, at least. 

“Ah, but I do.” Freddie held up a hand before Aziraphale could protest. “Now, none of that, dear. Dry your eyes. You’re going to see just how much he adores you.” Freddie smiled. This was going to be fun.


	2. A Brave New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley confesses his feelings, but can Aziraphale make himself believe it? He's trying, poor thing....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the song by the Bongos that Maddy gets the DJ to play: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NcKG6YUM5OU
> 
> It's from the album "Beat Hotel," one of my favorites from the 80s.

“And – TAH-DAH!” Crowley made a dramatic exit out of his walk-in closet. “What do you think of th-?” He looked around. “Wait. Where are you?” His cat Mehitibel had apparently gotten bored with his costume changes – there were clothes pretty much everywhere at this point – and wandered off. “You’re supposed to be helping me out here, fleabag!” He looked in the mirror. “Actually, this looks good. I don’t need you to tell me that.”

Mehitibel poked her head back around the door with a meow. 

“Okay, listen you,” Crowley said, picking her up. “I left you double food and water. If everything goes well, I may not be back until tomorrow sometime. Because I have a date with an angel tonight.”

~*~

“I still can’t believe I said yes…” Aziraphale was talking to the little plant Crowley had given him. “He’s going to end up hating me, you know. Not that I much blame him. I’m so boring. I mean, if I didn’t have to be around myself, I wouldn’t want anything to do with me, either.” He had himself worked into a such a knot of miserable anxiety that earlier in the day he’d spent a good twenty minutes hiding in the supply room at the office behind an unruly stack of file boxes, sobbing. He’d finally emerged red-eyed and sniffling, trying to blame it on allergies and dust. He didn’t think Freddie, Brian May or the two other secretaries – Maddy and Holly – had bought it. He still wasn’t in much better shape. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go to the party with Crowley. The problem was that he did. He was so desperately in love with Crowley that he almost couldn’t think around him anymore, much less act normally. Whatever normal was supposed to be. And he was completely convinced that Crowley was going to be so disgusted with him that he’d never want anything to do with him again. 

He hoped he actually looked okay. He’d been nervous about what Freddie would insist on picking out for him, but the singer had actually found something that looked quite – well, nice. _Or would if someone other than myself were wearing it,_ he thought. _Why did I say yes? I’m just going to destroy the only good thing I had left._

A knock on the door made him jump. 

“Angel?” It was Crowley.

Aziraphale opened the door nervously. “Crowley?” His eyes went wide. The guitarist was dressed in a sharp 1940’s era black suit jacket with skinny black jeans, a red shirt and black tie, his hair falling in long shimmery red waves. He was more than a little breathtaking. 

“Angel!” Crowley’s eyes lit up. “Look at you!” Aziraphale had on trousers and a jacket in bright navy blue, albeit in his adorable wrong-century style, a dark brown waistcoat and light blue shirt – with a brown and blue tartan bow tie, complete with Victorian-style brown and white shoes. “I swear you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Aziraphale blushed. “You look really nice.”

“As do you.” Crowley offered a hand and Aziraphale took it. “Are you ready to show them how it’s done, angel?”

~*~

The valet parker was nowhere in sight, so Crowley drove on into the parking garage, finding a spot reasonably near one of the walkways into the hotel by luck when a Range Rover backed out and left.

“Seems crowded,” he said as they got out.

“I think Holly said there was a wedding going on here as well,” Aziraphale said, then cringed, thinking he shouldn’t have said that at all. _What if he thinks I’m trying to – I don’t know, give him ideas or something? He doesn’t feel that way. He just feels bad for me. He doesn’t love me. How could he? How could anyone?_

“So close to Christmas? I don’t think I’d want that,” Crowley said. “Although one of my sisters had a friend who wants to get married on Christmas Eve so she can give her eventual husband her – well, she said “maidenhead,” but I think she meant her V-card – for Christmas.”

Aziraphale knew what “maidenhead” meant – his father had used it in regards to his sisters’ chastity – but “V-card” was a new one. “I can just imagine my father’s reaction to that. I mean the last part. He thought sex was evil enough when it was between a man and a woman, never mind anyone else.”

“No offense, angel, but your father sounds like a nutcase.”

“My father’s a little scary sometimes,” Aziraphale said in one of the biggest understatements of the year, pressing a little closer against Crowley as they walked. “I keep hoping he’ll at least change his mind about never wanting to see or hear from me again, but I don’t know.”

“Why? I’d be running the other way.”

“Because he’s my father…” Aziraphale looked up, all sad blue eyes. “Crowley, hold on. I’ll be right back…” He made a quick detour into the men’s room they were passing. He really didn’t need to use the facilities, he just wanted to compose himself. It was a good thing. As the door closed quietly behind him, he became aware of a rhythmic wheezing and grunting he was all too familiar with – as well as a familiar pair of shoes visible beneath a stall. The grunting immediately stopped and the lock on the stall clicked open…

He immediately booked it out of there, looking for Crowley. 

Crowley was leaning on the wall near a corridor that branched off to somewhere deep within the bowels of the Grand, replying to a text from his sister Jada, when Aziraphale pretty much crashed into him, eyes wide.

“Come on. We need to…” He broke off as the door to the men’s room opened and quickly pulled Crowley into the corridor and back into a small alcove leading into a dark office, shushing him with a finger to the lips. He peeked back around the corner at the sound of footsteps and Crowley, overcome with curiosity, did too. 

Gabriel hurried by, followed by a woman in a wedding gown, both obviously trying to straighten out their clothing. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Crowley whispered. “Was he - in there…?”

Aziraphale nodded, took a step back and bumped into him, turning to look at him, wide-eyed. Crowley automatically put his arms around him and Aziraphale pressed closer. 

“Are you sure that’s what they were doing, angel?” Crowley said after a moment. 

“Very. I’m far too well acquainted with the asthmatic water buffalo noises Gabriel makes in those – situations,” Aziraphale said. 

“And now I am never going to be able to look at him and keep a straight face again,” Crowley said with a laugh. 

“Well, he does,” Aziraphale said. “And why would you want to keep a straight face? You’re gay.” He immediately wondered if he should have said that, but Crowley laughed again.

“And you’re too cute.” Crowley wanted to say _and I love you,_ but didn’t. Yet.

“Do you think we should say something to Vikki?” Aziraphale said after a moment, looking up, unexpectedly meeting Crowley’s gaze – and this time, not looking immediately away. 

“Like what?” It wasn’t sarcastic. Crowley honestly had no idea.

“I – don’t know. Either.” Aziraphale admitted. Despite his usual inability to make eye contact for more than half a second, he hadn’t looked away – and Crowley hadn’t let go. Not that Aziraphale wanted him to. Quite the opposite. 

“Well…I…” Crowley wondered if Aziraphale could hear his heart pounding from here. Their lips were only about five inches apart. Five inches. This was the moment he’d dreamed of since the day Aziraphale had been dumped for that blue-eyed office floozy. “Angel?”

“What?”

“Would it be okay if I kissed you?”

Aziraphale nodded. 

Crowley wasn’t sure which one of them actually made the first move – he suspected it might have actually been the timid Aziraphale – but all at once their lips were meeting and he was pushing his angel back against the wall for support because he wasn’t sure he could keep to his feet and Aziraphale was clutching awkwardly at his jacket, not sure what to do but not wanting to break the kiss…

“Wait…” Crowley pulled away just for a moment. “We’re both going to end up on the floor like this. Here.” He pulled Aziraphale into a proper embrace, then leaned him against the wall again to kiss him, much less frantically this time. It was far from the setting he’d envisioned, but as for the kiss itself, Aziraphale smelled like vanilla and tasted like heaven and his body was so warm and soft pressed against Crowley’s that he wanted this moment to last forever. 

It turned into a far longer and more deeply passionate kiss than either of them had intended. Had it not been for the need to breathe, Crowley wasn’t sure they ever would have broken it. 

He finally did, reluctantly. “Oh, angel. My darling angel.”

“C-Crowley?” Aziraphale was looking up at him, flushed and trembling a bit, his lips slightly parted, his blue eyes wider than Crowley had ever seen. He looked slightly scared. He’d spent months wondering what it would be like if Crowley ever kissed him, but the reality was so much more than he could have imagined. And he wanted Crowley to do it again.

“I’ve wanted to do that since about five minutes after I met you,” Crowley admitted. He cupped his left hand against Aziraphale’s face, stroking his cheek with his thumb. “Oh, angel. Can’t you see how much I love you?”

“You…?” Aziraphale stared at him for a very long moment, overwhelmed, before looking away. “I love you too, Crowley. I…” He looked back, feeling unreasonably like he might be about to cry yet again, but for an entirely different reason than his breakdown in the supply room. 

“You know this wasn’t how I planned to tell you?” Crowley leaned over to nuzzle Aziraphale’s cheek, kissing away a tear about to fall from his eye. “I was going to pick you up in the Bentley, take you to dinner at the Ritz, reveal my deepest feelings for you over dessert – you know, that sort of thing. I was going to make it really special.” He twined his fingers through Aziraphale’s soft hair as he spoke.

“But is it. Oh, Crowley…” Aziraphale pressed against him, hiding his face against Crowley’s shoulder. Up until this moment, he hadn’t realized how very desperately he needed to be held. It wasn’t even sexual. _I just need to feel like he wants me around._ Even now, he couldn’t bring himself to think the words "loves me." “I feel like this can’t be – I feel like somewhere someone’s about to realize they made a mistake and when they do, I’ll be out of luck.” He looked up, then down, realizing he wasn’t making any sense. 

“What do you mean?” Crowley said, nuzzling into his hair.

“Like the gods made a mistake or something. Because guys like you don’t fall in love with – someone like me.” Aziraphale’s voice broke in spite of himself. “I mean, look at me. I-I’m - nothing.”

“Okay, listen, you. Let’s get one thing straight here. Nobody talks about my angel like that. Especially not my angel.” Crowley’s tone was scolding, but even Aziraphale, with all his timidity and insecurity, could see the absolute adoration in his eyes – and the smile he tried to hide and couldn’t. “Otherwise I’ll be forced to kiss you until you see the light.”

“That’s - not a very effective threat, you know,” Aziraphale said. 

“Well, yeah, but it’s all I’ve got.” Crowley said with a laugh, kissing him again. “But seriously? You’re the sweetest, softest thing on the planet and I love you so much. I have since I met you.”

Aziraphale stretched up a bit to kiss him, still shy. “I love you, too.” He finally smiled, really smiled, for possibly the first time Crowley had ever seen, his blue eyes soft like a summer sky and just as warm. “Oh, Crowley.”

“Come on, angel,” Crowley said, giving him one more quick kiss. “We’re going to walk in like we own that place and Gabriel’s going to see what he wasn’t good enough for. Okay?”

“Crowley…” Aziraphale blushed slightly. “You’re too much.”

~*~

Crowley would have loved to have walked in with much fanfare and flashbulbs popping and his angel on his arm, but he settled for ambling in holding hands with Aziraphale, whose almost pathological shyness immediately got the best of him once they were inside. 

“I don’t know…” He pressed against Crowley. “Maybe I shouldn’t have…”

“Hey.” Crowley hugged him close. “You’re forgetting one thing.”

“What?” Aziraphale said, slightly panicky.

“That you’re my angel, I love you and I want everyone to know it.” Crowley looked around. “Hey, speaking of whom…”

“Oh no…” Aziraphale winced. Gabriel was indeed nearby with an arm around Vikki, who was teetering on ridiculously high heels and wearing something that looked small enough to be a sequined hand towel. “This is awkward.”

“Sheesh.” Crowley kissed him again, softly. “Maybe you’re right. We shouldn’t say anything.”

“That’s not right, though. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“They didn’t think about hurting you,” Crowley pointed out. 

“He didn’t. She had no idea that he was my ex. I still don’t think she does.” Aziraphale had leaned against Crowley, who’d slipped his arms around him, swaying a bit to some half-heard slow music coming from somewhere nearby, probably the wedding reception in the nearby ballroom. 

“I wonder if that’s a sign. The wedding next door, I mean,” Crowley said after a moment.

“What do you mean?” Aziraphale had his head on Crowley’s shoulder and wasn’t really in a hurry to move. 

“For us,” Crowley said. 

“I hope not.” Aziraphale looked over at Gabriel, then back at Crowley. “I don’t think things are going to end well, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not inviting him to ours. Or maybe we are, just to annoy the snot out of him,” Crowley said, wondering how hard it would be to convince Aziraphale to take his last name(s) – Aziraphale Deveraux-Gordon had a nice ring to it. That was the biggest problem with a hyphenated last name. It made it difficult to take your husband’s name, too. And part of him wanted to, just to tick off Aziraphale’s stuffy prick of a father. 

_Okay Crowley, slow down_ , he scolded himself. _Maybe wait until after Christmas before you start planning your wedding…_

He looked back at Aziraphale and they ended up in another long, slow kiss. 

“Crowley, darling, it took you long enough!” Freddie’s voice startled them and they ended up bumping noses. 

“Yeah, well – traffic was bad and then so was parking,” Crowley said. 

“That’s not what I mean, dear. You’ve had our poor Zira in tears thinking you didn’t love him.” Freddie scolded. 

“Have I?” Crowley looked at Aziraphale. “Angel, I’m sorry. I just – didn’t want to go too fast for you. I was afraid I’d lose you if I did.”

“Oh, Crowley…” Aziraphale kissed him shyly. “It’s okay.”

~*~

“So, Jamie was thinking that for the album cover, we would…” Crowley broke off as Aziraphale, who had forgotten where they were sitting, walked by, catching him around the waist and pulling him over. “Gotcha.” They were with Brian, Maddy and Freddie in a big U-shaped booth, Freddie against the wall with the two couples on either side. It was several hours later and the party was in full swing.

Aziraphale let out a startled squeak as he stumbled, lost his balance and landed in Crowley’s lap. 

“That worked out better than expected,” Crowley said with a laugh. 

“You’re too much.” Aziraphale slid onto the seat and snuggled close, looking equal parts embarrassed and like the cat that got into the dairy. “Everyone’s going to think we’re drunk.”

“Don’t tell them I’m not. I do have an image to maintain, you know,” Crowley retorted, kissing Aziraphale’s pert nose. “And have I told you in the last five minutes how much I love you, angel?”

“Oh, Crowley…” Aziraphale looked shy. “I love you, too. So much.” That fact that Crowley was, in fact, completely sober made him think that he might actually mean it. 

“Crowley, you _are_ too much,” Brian said with a laugh. It was the closest he’d ever seen the normally wistful Aziraphale come to looking happy, although he still seemed apprehensive. He was, for the most part, sticking very close to Crowley, who didn’t seem too anxious to let him out of his sight. 

“I know. Hey, want to hit the dance floor, angel?”

“I can’t dance.” Aziraphale looked down.

“Neither can I, but I don’t let it stop me. Come on,” Crowley got up, pulling him to his feet and leading him away. Aziraphale seemed overwhelmed, but willing. 

“He’s simply too cute, dears,” Freddie said. “I think Crowley will be a very good influence on him.”

“I don’t know if I’d say good. He’s got a reputation, you know,” Brian pointed out, looking curiously at Maddy. “What are you doing?”

“An unfounded one. He’s actually quite nice. And he adores our Zira,” Freddie said. “And dear, what are you doing?”

“Texting the DJ,” she replied, smiling as the next song, which was more mid-tempo than the past few, started with lush guitars. 

“What is that?” Brain couldn’t quite place it.

“The Bongos. “Brave New World,” she replied.

~*~

Out on the dance floor, Crowley’s eyes went wide. “I haven’t heard this one in ages!”

“What is it?” Aziraphale said. 

“Listen.” Crowley pulled Aziraphale into his arms, spinning him around the dance floor.

_Waltz into my arms  
Let the music swell  
These troubled times aren't here to stay  
The world's a looking-glass  
Let's find a place to be  
Let the madness come and go  
True love, true love, true love is ordinary,  
New love, new love is what we have  
Dash into my heart  
Watch the sky go clear  
Like childhood dreams now we can fly  
The drum beats perfect time  
Your heart beats into mine  
Let the hard times pass us by  
True love, true love, true love is ordinary,  
New love, new love is what we have  
A brave new world  
I'll show you a day that never dies  
New, new words I'll tell you  
Look into my eyes  
We will wander always  
Places call us softly  
Take me by the hand and run  
True love, true love, true love is ordinary,  
New love, new love is what we have._

They ended up almost dead center in the middle of the dance floor as the song faded out. 

“Crowley, I…” Aziraphale looked both stunned and starry-eyed. “I can’t believe this is really happening. It’s all too perfect…”

“Oh, angel…” Crowley kissed him again. The song segued into “Crazy For You,” the classic Madonna slow-dance tune and they stayed where they were, lost in the music.


	3. So Don't Stop Me Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale learns more about Crowley and what he's getting himself into. And he gets to shoot Gabriel down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After some thought, I decided to bring back another OC from my Queen fanfic days. Years ago, I wrote a story as a challenge imagining Freddie Mercury ending up happily with a woman instead. The result was a sassy badass redhead who I named Tianna Deveraux, later Tianna Deveraux-Bulsara, aka Tianna Mercury. 
> 
> This is a short chapter. I'm still maneuvering them into bed.

“Little closer, angel – come on, smile. Perfect.” It was an hour or so later and Crowley was in front of one of the plants in the lobby, taking the perfect selfie with his angel. “Aww. Look at you. So cute.” Aziraphale had actually managed a shy little half-smile instead of his usual slightly panicky expression in photos. 

“You’re not really going to put that on Facebook, are you?” Aziraphale said, watching as Crowley did, adding the caption: _At the Beach & Lockwood holiday bash with my angel_ and tagging him. “I always look ugly in pictures.” 

“Of course I am. And no, you don’t.” Crowley kissed his cheek. “You’re so adorable.”

Aziraphale looked over his now-official boyfriend’s shoulder. “Wait. Did you really just post that you’re in a relationship with me?”

“Yeah. And I tagged you. I hope you don’t mind.” Crowley looked at him. 

“No, of course not. I’m just – not used to being with someone who isn’t trying to hide the fact that they’re with me,” Aziraphale admitted. 

“You mean like the old water buffalo in there?”

“I should not have said that. You’re going to get us both in trouble.”

“What’s he going to do? Spank me?” Crowley smirked. “How is he so sure I’m not into that?”

“Uh…” Aziraphale wasn’t sure if he was serious or not. 

“Hey, I didn’t say which one of us was the spanker and which one the spankee,” Crowley pointed out. 

“Crowley! I really didn’t need that image in my head…” 

“Of me?”

“No. Him and – her.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think that through very well, did I?”

“No you didn’t.” They looked at one another in total solemnity for a long moment before Crowley succumbed to a fit of laughter. Aziraphale smiled shyly, but put his hand over his mouth to partially hide it. 

“Maybe I’d better quit while I’m ahead,” Crowley said, composing himself somewhat. He sat down on a nearby loveseat and Aziraphale joined him, snuggling close.

Crowley put an arm around him. “You look tired.”

“I’ll be okay in a minute.” Aziraphale curled up rather like a small, plump cat, leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder and closing his eyes. He was so introverted that being around people for too long wiped him out – the exception being Crowley. 

Crowley kissed his forehead. “My darling angel.” 

Aziraphale smiled up at him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Crowley kissed him softly. 

“Hey, Crowley!” The voice – female this time – startled them into bumping noses again. 

“Ow.” Crowley rubbed his nose, looking around. “Damn it, Tigi, your husband made us do the same thing. And I thought you weren’t coming?”

Aziraphale had his hand pressed to his mouth, stunned. The speaker was Tianna Mercury, Freddie’s infamously redhaired wife. He’d not yet met her, and honestly, he was a bit afraid to, even though Maddy kept saying she was actually very nice. 

“I didn’t think I’d get back from Brighton in time. But here I am, _ami.”_ Her hair was even redder in person – about the same shade as Crowley’s – as wildly curly in person as in photos and well past her waist. She was sturdy and curvy, also with brown eyes, albeit darker than Crowley’s. “And I presume this is the angel you just posted about?” She smiled warmly. “I’m Crowley’s cousin Tianna. And for the life of me, I can’t figure out how to pronounce your name, so I’m just going to call you Zira instead of turning it into something embarrassing.”

“It’s Aziraphale,” he said shyly. 

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you. Crowley talks about you all the time,” she said. 

“You do?” He looked at Crowley. 

“He does. And you two make the cutest couple,” she said. 

“Tigi, darling!” Freddie swept over to give her a kiss. “And here I thought you weren’t coming!”

“I got back sooner than I thought I would,” she said.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley. “She’s your cousin?! But how…?” He wasn’t angry, just completely bewildered. 

“My mom’s from New Orleans. Tigi’s mom is my Aunt Celeste,” Crowley explained. “My mom did what Tigi did and came to the UK on a scholarship and ended up marrying a guy from Edenborough.”

“Oh.” Crowley had talked about his family before, of course – Aziraphale knew his parents were both involved in theater, but he’d never really mentioned his mother being American. 

“They’re in South Africa right now, filming. I think this is only the second time they’ve been in a movie together.” Crowley was looking through his Facebook feed for photos. “Or did she – no, here she is. Hey, did I show your these, Tigi?”

“I don’t think so.” She came over to look, along with Freddie. 

“Movie?” Aziraphale said. 

“Yeah. I think it’s called _1941_. It’s about a rare book dealer who helps smuggle people out of Nazi Germany.” Crowley found what he was looking for. “Here they are. My dad is playing the bookshop owner and my mom is his assistant and, of course, his love interest. But it does sound like it’s going to be really good. She said this photo was from on-set. She’s actually in disguise as a man in this scene.” It was a shot from what looked to be a bombed-out church. 

“I’m stealing that look,” Tianna said. 

Aziraphale didn’t know what to say. “That’s your mom…?!” he finally got out. 

“Yeah. People swear I look like her, but I don’t see it, except for the red hair,” Crowley said. “I think she and my sister look more alike.”

It didn’t really answer the question that Aziraphale couldn’t get out. It wasn’t the resemblance or lack thereof. It was that Crowley’s casual remarks about his parents being “in theater” hadn’t prepared him for the fact that they were in fact David Lowe and Anna Sheen, stars of _The Professor_ and _Tadfield Confidential_ , respectively. 

Crowley kissed his cheek. “You’ll get to meet them and my sisters after the New Year. My family’s pretty crazy, but I think you’ll love them. I know they’ll love you.”

Once again, poor Aziraphale was left wondering if he was about to wake up now, or if the fates would be cruel and have it happen just as Crowley took him to bed. Because of all the Things That Did Not Happen, this sort of thing Did Not Happen the most. 

“In fact…” Crowley showed him a comment on the picture he’d posted – from his mom. _How cute are you two? Your Dad and I can’t wait to meet him._

It had officially turned into one of the most impossible nights of Aziraphale’s life, and it wasn’t even ten PM.

~*~

It was about half an hour later, back inside. Aziraphale, who wasn’t driving, was sipping a hard seltzer by then – somewhat daring for him – and picking at nachos. Crowley was somewhat surprised that he was picking out the ones with jalapenos on them, although he didn’t know why he should have been. He’d seen the lethal amounts of wasabi Aziraphale used on sushi. 

“You’re not upset that I didn’t tell you about my parents, are you?” Crowley said after a few minutes.

“You did tell me. I just didn’t realize I knew who they were,” Aziraphale said. “I’m not mad at you. Not at all.” He leaned over to kiss Crowley shyly, their lips barely touching. “I can’t believe all this is happening, and I keep wondering when I’m going to wake up, but I’m not upset. Although I will be if I wake up and none of this did. You know?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s all happening, angel. And if it isn’t, I’m going to find you when you wake up and make it happen.” He touched Aziraphale’s face, brushing his fingers lightly across his cheek. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. And that’s not the White Claw talking.” Aziraphale hadn’t drunk enough to even feel it. 

“Silly angel.” Crowley kissed him. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. And is it me, or is it really stuffy in here?”

“It’s not just you.” Aziraphale said. “You think the conservatory is cooler?”

“We can see.” Crowley slid out of the booth and offered Aziraphale a hand out. 

“I see someone’s not being careful about the company he keeps.”

Crowley turned around, startled, and found himself almost nose-to-nose with Gabriel. 

“The fuck?” he demanded. 

“Really, Aziraphale? I always knew you had poor judgment, but this?” Gabriel smiled smugly. 

“So I guess my poor judgment explains how I ended up with you?” Aziraphale shot back. 

Crowley shot him an approving look. _That’s my angel._

Gabriel was caught off guard. He obviously hadn’t been expecting his intended target to fight back. He opened his mouth, started to say something, took one look at Crowley and decided against it. Instead, he stalked off to where Vikki was teetering drunkenly on her spike heels. 

“Yeah. Conservatory…” Crowley decided. “Otherwise, I’m punching something.”

~*~

“Don’t let him get to you, Crowley, please. I don’t want you getting in trouble on my account,” Aziraphale pleaded when they were alone.

“I think you handed that quite well, actually,” Crowley said. “And he’s not worth it. Nobody is going to screw this up for us.” He pulled Aziraphale down on a bench with him. “Now come here, angel.”

It had been a long time since Crowley had indulged in a full-on makeout session, and pretty much never with someone he loved as much as he did Aziraphale. He was also sure that Aziraphale had never done this at all, with anyone. 

And it quickly became obvious that it wasn’t happening now. 

“Okay, okay, let’s do this!” The wedding party was flowing in for photos. 

“Fuck…” Crowley muttered, then looked at Aziraphale. “Angel, I think it’s time we said our goodbyes and got out of here, don’t you?”

Aziraphale paused for a moment, looking down, then said, “You could come over to my place, you know.” It took more nerve than he thought he possessed to say it.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Crowley kissed him. 

~*~

Back at Aziraphale’s dismal little flat, they ended up on the bed – or tried to, anyway. Crowley lasted all of maybe a minute kissing his angel before he got up on his elbows, frowning. “Okay, angel? This is not going to work. Is this a mattress or a concrete slab?”

“Uh – you-know-who picked it out. I couldn’t afford to dump it. Mattresses are expensive.” Gabriel had insisted the firmer the better when it came to mattresses – which was part of why Aziraphale had come to prefer the sofa. But there was no way they had enough room to do anything there. 

“Even worse. Come on, angel. I’m taking you to my place instead.” Crowley rolled off the bed and offered Aziraphale a hand up. “Better pack some things first, though. I don’t think you’ll be leaving right away.”


	4. Funny How Love Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up once they figure out whose place they're going to be at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part was supposed to be longer, but I have the world's worst writer's block right now. It isn't that I don't know what I want to have happen, I just can't get the scene to play out right. So this will probably be another short chapter,

Aziraphale sat up, looking apprehensive. “Crowley, I…” 

“What, love?” Crowley had gone to peek out the window. “Seriously, mine’s a mess, but the bed is a lot nicer. The whole place is nicer.” Aziraphale had suggested his place first and Crowley had gone along with what he presumed was his angel’s comfort level, but he really didn’t like this place at all. He was pretty sure the walls weren’t supposed to be that grimy yellowish shade, it always smelled damp and the installed carpeting looked like it had never been shampooed – ever. If they were going to be together, which looked to be the case, he was going to have to try to talk Aziraphale into moving in with him. Which seemed abrupt, but they’d known each other for just over a year at this point. 

“It’s all I can afford. Face it. I’m – not much of anything.” Aziraphale looked down. “I don’t want to lose you, but I…” Everything was hitting him all at once. He hadn’t realized Crowley was Freddie’s cousin-in-law, hadn’t realized his parents were – well, who they were. And here he was, nothing at all. It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t. And even if it was, Crowley wasn’t going to stick around now that he’d seen just how – nothing – he really was. 

“Angel? What do you mean? I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.” Crowley sat down, gathering him close. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just – I…” Aziraphale trailed off, then looked down. “I don’t know what you see in me, Crowley. Look at you. You’re rich, you’re gorgeous. You could have anyone. I keep thinking I must be dreaming, and when I wake up it’s going to hurt so much…” His voice broke. 

“Oh angel. My poor angel…” Crowley hugged him tighter, stroking his hair. “They really did hurt you that badly, didn’t they? Made you believe that nobody could love you. Well guess what? They were wrong. They were wrong and I’m going to prove it to you. I’m going to make you believe that you’re worth loving. Because you are. Okay?” He pushed Aziraphale back enough to look into his eyes. “What I don’t get is how you could have come from somewhere so hateful that they don’t even acknowledge you and still have nothing but love in your heart. You really are an angel.” He kissed Aziraphale’s nose. “Do you want to come over to my place?”

Aziraphale nodded, then kissed him shyly. “I want to be with you.” 

“We don’t have to actually do anything if you don’t want to. I just want to be with you, too. But someplace that’s only ours. Not someplace you-know-who was.” Crowley looked distastefully at the mattress. “Besides, you’ve only got the one sheet on it. How do you even sleep on this?” He’d been so focused on Aziraphale that he hadn’t realized it until now. “Tonight, my love, you’re sleeping on memory foam. In my arms. I don’t care if we make love or not.”

Aziraphale looked up at him through his eyelashes, shy and bold all at once. “If you’re going to take me to bed, you better make love to me.” He looked down. “It’s okay. I mean, after Gabriel, I – got tested. I’m – clean.”

“Same here. I had to after Luc. He wasn’t exactly what you’d call faithful,” Crowley admitted. “But it’s okay. I’m good, too. So - grab some extra clothes and let’s get out of here?” 

They ended up bringing the little plant in the angel pot with them, too. 

~*~

Back at Crowley’s flat, Mehitibel greeted them briefly, then realized that her person and his angel were going to be too preoccupied to give her the attention she deserved and stalked off in a huff, deciding that since she wasn’t going to get the bed tonight, she would just sleep on her human’s discarded coat. Because cat hair. 

Crowley didn’t notice. He finally had Aziraphale Shepard where he’d dreamed of having him for close to a year – all to himself and on his sofa – and was trying to relieve him of at least a few layers of clothing before moving the action to the bedroom. Although if he could get him naked right here…he started to try to get up on his knees, slipped and fell off the sofa with a startled yelp, landing on the fluffy gray rug with a thump. 

“Crowley?” Aziraphale leaned over to look at him. “Are you all right?”

Crowley sat up. “I meant to do that,” he said, kissing his angel’s nose. “And yes, before you ask, it really is a little too soon for me to be lying to you, but there you have it.”

Aziraphale shyly brushed his fingers across Crowley’s face. “You really don’t have to be so frantic. It’s not as though I’m going anywhere.”

“Oh, angel…” Crowley caught Aziraphale’s hand, pressing his lips to the palm before giving him a mischievous look and taking his fingers in his mouth one by one. Aziraphale let out a startled squeak, but didn’t pull away. Crowley sucking on his fingers really shouldn’t have felt so good. 

After a few minutes of unexpectedly exquisite torture, Crowley climbed back on the sofa, kissing Aziraphale again while unbuttoning his shirt, finally slipping the fabric off his shoulders and nuzzling the soft, bare skin underneath, planting a line of soft, scalding hot kisses along his angel’s throat and down his chest. Aziraphale whimpered, clutching at him. 

_Packing on the pounds, aren’t you, Aziraphale? And you wonder why nobody wants to look at you…_

“Crowley, w-wait…” Aziraphale suddenly pushed him back a bit. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Shouldn’t we…turn the light off first?” _So maybe you won’t realize how fat and ugly I am?_

“Angel, we’re on the fifteenth floor. Nobody’s going to see us.” Crowley pointed out.

“It’s not that. It’s that I’m…” Aziraphale looked away. “Soft…”

“What do you mean?” Crowley said, bewildered. “Wait. Is this about your weight again? Because if it is, forget it. I think you’re freaking hot, okay?” He tried to push Aziraphale down on the sofa and nearly slipped off again. 

“Maybe we’d better go to your bedroom before someone gets hurt,” Aziraphale said. Crowley, much to Aziraphale’s amusement, alternated between being a paragon of sinuous grace and the human equivalent of a clumsy house cat. 

“Good idea.” Crowley got up, holding a hand out. “Come on, angel.”

~*~

Crowley shoved the scattered clothes littering the bed onto the floor before hurriedly pulling the covers down. To Aziraphale’s dismay, he also turned on the bedside light. 

“That’s better,” he said, giving Aziraphale another kiss before hurriedly stripping off his own clothes. Aziraphale, who hadn’t yet made a move to finish undressing, watched, eyes wide. Crowley was slim, of course – one of the music blogs had described him as “arguably the most awkward, gangly collection of limbs to ever masquerade as a human being,” but he was quite nicely built, not scrawny at all. In fact, Aziraphale would have said he was pretty much perfect. It only made him feel even fatter and uglier. He’d never been skinny, and his father and brothers had mocked him mercilessly about his weight – something Gabriel had done as well, with a gleeful malice disguised as concern. 

“Too many layers, angel.” Crowley’s voice – and his gentle touch – pulled the panicky Aziraphale out of his increasingly dark reverie. “Come here.” 

“Are – are you sure you don’t want to – put the light out?” Aziraphale got out. 

“Actually, I want to see you. I hope you don’t mind.” Crowley kissed him while he finally undid his trousers, getting him out of the rest of his clothes before gently pushing him down on the bed. “I’ve wanted to for so long now – Gods, I hope that doesn’t make me sound like a pervert, that I’ve wanted to see you naked, but I have, and - oh, angel. Fuck. You’re so beautiful. You’re perfect. You’re absolutely perfect.” It had been worth the wait. Naked, Aziraphale looked like an angel in a painting, all pale soft skin and pink curves. Some old Renaissance painting they’d hidden away, behind black velvet, because the church had deemed it too blasphemous, too erotic to be shown. A beautiful, plump, blue-eyed angel, glancing up from under lowered eyelashes, shivering a bit with both nervousness and desire as he awaited his demon lover’s caress, knowing full well he might end up fallen, but choosing it willingly. Because if he couldn’t be free to be with the one he loved, then what was the point? 

Okay, yeah, maybe that was a little over the top. But it didn’t change the fact that Aziraphale was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. 

“You really think so?” Aziraphale blushed, looking away, then back. “You don’t think I’m too...heavy?”

“Oh fuck, no. I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Crowley’s tone was almost reverent. “You’re like some Renaissance painting that came to life. Like an angel who fell in love with a demon.”

“Can they do that?”

“Can who do what?”

“Demons. Can they really fall in love with angels?”

“Well, put it this way. I fell in love with you, angel.” Crowley said, curling up with him and kissing him softly. “Oh, angel…” He’d spent so much time trying to imagine what this would be like, finally getting Aziraphale Shepard in his bed. All these lovely places to touch, to kiss and caress, to taste, so many ways to make him cry out in ecstasy – although he really didn’t think Aziraphale would be much of a screamer. He was just too reserved. 

Aziraphale shivered at the skin-on-skin contact. “Crowley? There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What?” Crowley looked at him. 

Aziraphale looked even shyer than usual. “I’ve…never done most of this before.”

Crowley’s eyes went wide. “Then what did Gabriel…?”

“All he ever wanted was a blowjob. But he never did anything to me in return.” Aziraphale tucked his head under his boyfriend’s chin. “I’m sorry, I should have told you…”

Crowley pushed him back enough to kiss him. “Angel?”

“W-what?”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to. If you want to wait, we can. If you want me to stop, I will.” Crowley kissed him again, softly. “Just whatever you do, don’t leave. I just want you here, with me.”

“I’m the one who started it, remember?” Aziraphale pointed out. “We just ended up here because you like memory foam better than concrete.”

“Point taken…” Crowley let Aziraphale push him down on the bed, ending up underneath him – and in another very long, intensely passionate kiss. 

“Really,” Aziraphale said when their lips parted. “I actually want to. I…” He couldn’t quite meet Crowley’s gaze. “I want to know what it’s like with someone who actually loves me.”

“Angel…” Crowley gently pushed him over on the bed, getting on top. “I swear I thought you’d never ask.” He kissed Aziraphale again, softly, running his hands down his angel’s back to the delicious curve of his rear. “You really mean no one ever did this to you before?”

“No, I – oh!” Aziraphale caught his breath as Crowley nipped gently at his earlobe, sucking gently at it for a moment before kissing slowly along his jawline and down his throat. He had a feeling he should have been doing something in return, but he didn’t know what – and couldn’t think right at that moment, anyway. Not with Crowley’s hands and lips on him. 

“Oh, angel…” Crowley murmured. “You’re so beautiful. So perfect…” He smelled like vanilla, maybe with a bit of white chocolate and something that Crowley couldn’t quite identify, something unique to him and him alone. It was intoxicating. He worked his way lower, teasing one of his angel’s nipples with his tongue before taking it in his mouth, eliciting a gasp from Aziraphale, who was already shaking, overwhelmed by the newness of it all – the softness of the bed, the sensation of Crowley’s body against his, his restless caresses, his mouth on… “Oh God, Crowley, I…I…!” 

“It’s okay, angel.” Crowley realized he wasn’t going to be able to hold out any longer than Aziraphale, who really didn’t know how to hold himself back. He briefly considered going down on him, but decided not to. He really wanted to see Aziraphale’s face when he climaxed this first time. He slid up to kiss him again, hard, shuddering as his cock dragged against Aziraphale’s, making his angel cry out as well.

“Angel, I swear it’ll be better next time,” he said, breathless. “I just – I can’t hold out, I…I’ve never wanted anyone so badly in my life.” This was ridiculous, or should have been, basically humping Aziraphale like they were a couple of oversexed kids – but it felt so good that he didn’t really care. After all, it was Aziraphale. His angel. His beautiful, blue-eyed angel. He realized that he actually owed Gabriel one, for being so blindingly stuck-up and stupid that he’d let the most perfect thing he ever could have had go. 

“Crowley, I can’t…” Aziraphale though he should have been trying to hold back – or something like that – but Crowley was right, he had no idea what to do. Given his puritanical upbringing, it had never occurred to him to even try masturbation, and now he could see that he’d never really been that attracted to Gabriel – he couldn’t have been, because he’d never felt like this, not like…

“Look at me, angel!” Crowley hissed, kissing him quickly, grinding his hips harder against Aziraphale’s. He was close, too, but he wanted to see Aziraphale come first. 

“I…” Aziraphale broke off with a sharp little cry, clutching at him, shuddering as his orgasm tore through him, the sudden spasming of his body, the abrupt slickness and heat bringing Crowley over the edge with a cry of his own. 

“I…I…I didn’t know it…oh, Crowley…” Aziraphale clung to him in the aftermath, shivering. “I didn’t know it was like that. Oh, Crowley…”

“Angel…” Crowley murmured, fluttering soft little kisses over his angel’s face and throat. “Oh angel, I love you. I love you so much.”

“Nobody ever…” Aziraphale couldn’t get the words out. He didn’t even realize he was crying until a sob got away from him. “Crowley, I…oh, Crowley…!”

“It’s all right, angel.” Crowley held him tighter.

“I’m okay, really, I just – I don’t know what…” Poor Aziraphale couldn’t put his feelings into words, couldn’t figure out why he was crying, was terrified Crowley was going to take it the wrong way – except Crowley didn’t seem to be getting upset with him at all, and certainly hadn’t let go. 

“I’m sorry.” He looked up after a couple of minutes. “I just…I love you.”

“You’re such a mess,” Crowley murmured, kissing his eyelashes. “Gah. I love you so much. You have no idea. And I’ll be right back, okay sweetheart? I want to grab a washcloth and get us cleaned up before round two.”

“Yeah, that was kind of messy, wasn’t it?” Aziraphale hadn’t realized it at first. 

“It is if you do it right,” Crowley replied, heading for the attached bathroom. He returned a few minutes later, sitting down and dabbing gently at Aziraphale’s face before mopping up the damage from their first round. 

“Just one question, angel. How far do you want to go? Because I’m fine with whatever you want to do.” Crowley said, cupping his hand against his angel’s cheek.

Aziraphale leaned into his touch for a moment, then leaned over to shyly kiss him. “I want you to do everything to me. I…I want you inside me, Crowley.” He blushed a little, but actually held Crowley’s gaze.


	5. Be Your Valentino Just For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the last chapter and a little pillow talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I don't post this now, I never will. I wish I was better at writing sex scenes. It's the curse of the gay asexual horndog fangirl, I guess. 
> 
> And I realize I'm writing a Christmas story and it's almost Valentine's Day.

“Angel, are you sure?” Crowley said. “You don’t have to feel obligated, you know.”

“Crowley, really. I may not know what I’m doing, but I’m not some delicate southern pansy.” Aziraphale said, somehow managing to sound prim and slightly offended. 

Crowley laughed and kissed him again. “You are, however, the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, Crowley…” Aziraphale returned the kiss, then, before Crowley could react, pushed him over on his back, sliding down to take his slowly redoubling erection in his mouth. 

“Angel?!” Crowley gasped, startled. 

“I do know how to do one thing, you know,” Aziraphale pointed out, looking up. “Unless you – don’t want me to?” He was trying to be bold and faltering badly. 

“Angel, I want you to do whatever feels right for you,” Crowley said, a little unsteadily. “Although I – really don’t mind if you…”

Aziraphale hesitated a moment more, then returned to what he’d been doing, licking around the shaft to bring Crowley fully erect. He realized almost at once that this wasn’t going to be like it had been with Gabriel. For one thing, he loved Crowley’s scent – almost like dark chocolate and cinnamon – and the taste of his skin. He licked slowly around the swollen head, tracing his fingers slowly up and down the shaft before using his tongue. Crowley was whimpering, unable to watch for fear he’d come right then and there if he tried. He clutched at the sheets, wanting to twine his fingers through Aziraphale’s soft curls but not wanting him to think he was trying to shove his head down on him or something. He hated it when someone did that to him. 

“Angel, I – oh angel, th-that’s wonderful…” He broke off with a gasp when Aziraphale took him all the way in his mouth, pinning him to the bed as he did. “Oh, angel, I…” 

Aziraphale looked up at him for a moment, then took him back in his mouth, sucking hard, finding that little sensitive spot behind his balls and stroking it gently. Crowley cried out in absolute ecstasy, arching off the bed. He hadn’t expected Aziraphale to do this at all, much less be so good at it. How Gabriel could have given all this – a snuggly, sweet, adoring angel who could apparently do weird things with his tongue - up for that blue-eyed office floozy, he had no idea. Unless he really was as stupid as he looked, which was a distinct possibility. Not that all that occurred in one linear, coherent thought. Not while said angel was still doing weird things to him. And not when he was about to… 

“Angel, I…I’m going to…” He tried to warn Aziraphale so he could back off. Aziraphale knew, but took him in deeper.

Crowley grabbed at the sheets, trying to hold back. “Angel…!” It was too much. He could have sworn he saw stars when his orgasm ripped through him, could have sworn they were floating, and that his angel really did have wings. He cried out, spasming and arching off the bed, then slumped back amid the blankets, spent and breathing heavily, whimpering with pleasure as Aziraphale finished him off, cleaning him up with his tongue. 

“That was – oh fuck, angel, that was amazing…” He summoned up enough strength to pull Aziraphale up for a kiss, suddenly wanting to taste himself in his angel’s mouth. 

“I don’t think I need to ask you if you liked it,” Aziraphale said, shyly playful. 

“I don’t think that’s the word for it. I don’t think there is a word for it.” He snuggled against Aziraphale, trying to catch his breath. “Oh, angel.” They lay together for a few minutes, Crowley utterly contented and basking in the afterglow of his second orgasm, Aziraphale starting to feel panicky and a bit confused. 

“Should I…” This was usually when Gabriel kicked him out. Of course, Gabriel wouldn’t have grabbed him like that and kissed him right afterwards, either – and not just because he didn’t want to because he’d just come in his mouth. Gabriel had never actually kissed him. It had been awkward enough admitting that he’d never done most of this before – he wasn’t about to tell Crowley that he’d never been kissed before that moment in the Grand, either.

“Should you what, angel?” Crowley murmured, kissing him softly, running his hands restlessly over every bit of his angel’s soft skin that he could reach. He still hadn’t found all the places Aziraphale liked being kissed, he knew. It was going to take a lot more research. Of course, they technically didn’t have to get out of bed for at least a couple of days, so he had plenty of time to figure it out. 

“I – don’t know…” Aziraphale squirmed around a bit to allow Crowley freer access. This wasn’t the way he was accustomed to this going. Crowley was quite obviously not through with him yet. He shivered, whimpering as Crowley found the perfect spot between the nape of his neck and his shoulder, one that sent a delirious thrill down his spine when kissed. 

“Right now I’m not sure I do, either. Give me a few minutes to figure it out.” Crowley looked at him. “I really wasn’t expecting to be sucked into oblivion on our first date. Or should I say blown?”

“I – I just want to make you happy,” Aziraphale said hesitantly. 

“And you do.” Crowley kissed his nose. “Stop worrying, okay? You’re perfect, I love you to pieces and you make me very happy, indeed. The fact that you know how to give one heck of a blowjob is just a nice extra.”

Aziraphale blushed. “I…” That was one compliment he’d never imagined receiving. 

“Well, you do. Who would have thought an angel could do weird things with his tongue?” Crowley said playfully. 

“Crowley…” Aziraphale hid his face, both pleased and embarrassed all at once. 

“Silly angel. I love you so much.” Crowley gently pushed him down amid the blankets and pillows. He’d spent the better part of a year wondering what Aziraphale would be like if anyone ever got past his timid reserve. 

“I love you, too. So – does this make you my demon lover?” He had no idea how Crowley had come up with that, but he rather liked it. It really would have made for a good story – an angel and demon falling in love. 

“It might.” Crowley curled up with him and kissed him again. Now that he could take his time, he intended to relish every moment of it. “So he always wanted you to go down on him, but never did the same for you?”

“Never,” Aziraphale admitted. “I mean, I…”

“Oh, angel.” Crowley kissed him, then gave him a lascivious smirk. “Just you wait.”

“You don’t have to…oh!” Aziraphale broke off with a gasp as Crowley slid down, nipping little kisses up the inside of his thigh before licking slowly up the underside of his angel’s redoubled erection. Aziraphale clutched at the sheets, whimpering, eyes closed. The tiny little part of his mind that was still functional was trying to point out that Crowley’s technique was far superior to his own, but he really wasn’t in a position to analyze anything at the moment. 

Crowley, meanwhile, was reveling in his angel’s reactions. He swirled his tongue slowly around the swollen head, then took it in his mouth, sliding down as far as he could risk while holding Aziraphale down so he couldn’t move. 

After a few more minutes of extremely pleasurable torture, he sat up. “Angel?”

“C-Crowley?” Aziraphale tried to focus on him. He’d been getting close to orgasm again, but needed Crowley’s mouth on him still. 

“Do you still want to – go all the way?” He wasn’t sure how to put it. 

Aziraphale nodded. “I – really want it to be you. I mean, I – I know it probably seems like I don’t, but I really do.”

“Remember, you can always nope out of this if it gets uncomfortable.” Crowley kissed his nose, then reached over him to retrieve something from the night table drawer. 

“What do you mean?” Aziraphale looked rather lost. 

Crowley squirted a generous amount of lube out of the tube he’d retrieved. “Try to relax, okay love?”

“I…” Aziraphale gasped and whimpered as Crowley gently worked a finger inside, stretching. 

“Fuck, angel, you’re tight,” he murmured, kissing the tip of his angel’s cock. “Oh fuck, this is going to feel so good.” He swirled his tongue slowly around the head again, letting Aziraphale relax into what he was doing before he worked a second finger inside, probing deeper until he found the right spot. Aziraphale cried out, arching off the bed in unexpected ecstasy. 

“Crowley, I can’t, I need – I need you, I need…something…!” He almost didn’t know what he was saying. “Crowley, please…hurry…”

Crowley spent a few more minutes teasing him, trying to get him ready. He finally withdrew his fingers, prompting a whimper of protest from Aziraphale, then gently pulled his angel’s legs into position, bracing himself. 

“Are you ready?” Crowley said breathlessly. 

Aziraphale nodded, whimpering as he felt Crowley press against him, slowly working his way in. It almost hurt, but it felt good, too. Really good. 

“You’re tight. Oh fuck, you really are tight…” Crowley sucked in air with a hiss. It was almost too much for him to take. “Oh fuck, angel…” He withdrew slightly, then slowly slid in deeper. It was almost too much. “Oh my God, angel…” 

His next slow thrust hit the right spot and Aziraphale came very close to actually screaming. “Oh God! Crowley…d-do that again!”

 _Maybe I can make him scream after all,_ Crowley thought, amused in spite of the fact that he was currently fulfilling one of his most intense sexual fantasies. Aziraphale had his eyes closed, his skin glistening with sweat in the dim lamplight, a few disheveled curls clinging to his face. He was beautiful. “Angel, look at me!”

Aziraphale tried to focus on him. “Crowley?”

“Fuck, you’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful. I wish you could see how beautiful you are right now.” He tried to take it slow and gentle for about another minute before pure lust got the best of him and he shoved Aziraphale into the mattress, riding him mercilessly. Aziraphale was whimpering helplessly, clutching at him, begging him not to stop. 

“Harder, oh God, harder, hurt me, hurt me, please…” He really didn’t know exactly what he was saying. Crowley had found the perfect angle, and that one spot he kept hitting was threatening to send him over the edge into – something, he didn’t know what. 

“Angel…” Crowley kissed him, hard, bracing himself on one elbow to reach for his lover’s neglected erection. Aziraphale cried out, wrapping his legs tighter around Crowley’s waist, pulling him closer. It wasn’t going to take much for him to…

“Crowley, I can’t…!” He didn’t quite scream, but did cry out as he climaxed, twisting and spasming as he did and sending Crowley over the edge with a cry of his own. 

“Oh fuck, angel…” Crowley collapsed on top of him. “That was…that was….oh God…”

Aziraphale finally roused himself enough to kiss Crowley softly. “Oh Crowley.”

“Angel, my darling angel…” Crowley hugged him closer. “I love you, angel.”

“I love you, too. So much. You’re so good to me. It was never like this with Gabriel. You don’t mind if I talk about that, do you? Because it was never like this with him.” Aziraphale almost wasn’t aware of what he was saying. He was exhausted and dazed and completely, blissfully unhinged. 

Crowley kissed the top of his head. “Silly angel. You’re so cute.” He wasn’t much more coherent. 

Aziraphale snuggled closer. “I didn’t know it was like that. I didn’t know anything was like that.”

“Neither did I.” Crowley was vaguely thinking that he should get up, try to get them both cleaned up a bit, but he really didn’t have the strength to move. He finally roused himself to fetch the washcloth he’d tossed on the floor, doing the best he could to make them both somewhat presentable. Aziraphale was too exhausted and blissed-out to really be responsive, although he did manage a sleepy-eyed smile. 

“I think that’s better.” Crowley tossed the washcloth aside again and turned off the light before snuggling down under the covers with Aziraphale in his arms. 

“I love you,” Aziraphale murmured, nestling closer, barely half-awake. He had no idea what time it was and he really didn’t care. He was safe and warm and in the arms of someone who actually really loved him, and that was all he cared about.

“I love you, too.” Crowley would have been happy to have the evening end with him dropping Aziraphale off and leaving, but having him here, in his arms? It was the most impossibly perfect moment of his life. 

Mehitibel, realizing it was safe, slipped around the partially open door and jumped onto the bed, curling up in her usual spot at the foot as all three of them drifted off to sleep.

~*~

Aziraphale awoke slowly to dismal gray daylight and the sound of sleet hammering the windows. He was, however, warm and more comfortable than he’d been since – well, since ever, really. He sighed happily and nestled a little closer against Crowley, who was twined around him, asleep. 

_Wait. Crowley?!_

He looked around, abruptly remembering where he was – and how he’d ended up there. It hadn’t been a dream. He really was with Crowley, in his bed, waking up the morning after their first night together…

Assuming it was in fact morning and not afternoon, that is. With the clouds, it was impossible to tell. 

“Angel?” Crowley had awakened when he moved and was looking at him, smiling softly. “You’re so nice to wake up to.”

Aziraphale snuggled back into his arms. “I forgot where I was for a moment. I’m not really used to waking up in someone else’s bed. I’m actually not used to waking up in my own. I usually fall asleep on the sofa.”

“I can see why, with that awful mattress of yours,” Crowley said. “I wonder what time it is?” He looked around, realizing that he couldn’t reach the night table without letting go of Aziraphale, which he wasn’t about to do – and neither his watch nor his phone was on it anyway. He supposed they were probably in the living room along with the car keys – he remembered putting those on the coffee table, at least, before he and Aziraphale had ended up on the sofa. 

“Daytime, I guess.” Never mind the time - Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure what day it was at this point. The cold gray light and the sleet on glass would have been quite depressing if he’d been alone, but only made being snuggled in Crowley’s arms in his ridiculously warm, plush bed even cozier. “And Crowley?”

“What?” Crowley looked back at him, slightly apprehensive. 

Aziraphale kissed him softly. “I love you.”

“Oh, angel…” Crowley kissed him back and it turned into a very long, slow and deeply passionate kiss. “I love you, too. So much.”

Aziraphale snuggled closer and they lay together for a while, not speaking or needing to.

“You know what? This is perfect,” Crowley finally murmured. 

Aziraphale nodded, but he was falling quickly back into his usual wistful melancholy. 

Crowley, sensing it, kissed the top of his head. “You okay, angel?”

Aziraphale nodded, looking up at him. “I’m fine.” He wasn’t much of a liar. 

Crowley hugged him tighter. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. It’s just – I…” Aziraphale was still not convinced he wasn’t about to wake up alone on his sofa. “Promise you’ll call me while you’re away at Christmas? I-I’m really going to miss you.” 

“What are you talking about?” Crowley looked at him.

“Weren’t you going to your cousin’s for Christmas?”

“Yeah. Tianna and Freddie’s place.” Crowley kissed his nose. “Where did you think I was going?”

“I thought you were flying to the States or something,” Aziraphale admitted.

“Nope. You’re stuck with me.” Crowley hugged him tighter. 

Now Aziraphale was certain he was dreaming, and equally certain he didn’t want to wake up. He snuggled closer. “Should we get a tree?”

“We could borrow my parents’ tree,” Crowley said. “I somehow don’t think they’ll miss it in South Africa.” He was melting inside at that “we,” at the way Aziraphale had just casually turned them into a functioning unit. “And Freddie and Tianna totally won’t mind if I bring you. They’ve been telling me for months now that you loved me. I just wish I’d let myself believe it sooner.” He was quiet for a minute, then said, “So what was Christmas like with your family?”

“Well, my father wouldn’t allow a tree or anything – too pagan – and no gifts – too commercial. So it was church all day.” Aziraphale admitted. 

“He sounds like a barrel of laughs,” Crowley couldn’t suppress a truly magnificent eye roll. “He would not like us. Tianna always says Freddie is trying to make the house visible from space. And I was going to suggest going out for dinner, but that would involve finding something to wear,” It was still pouring a nasty mix of rain and sleet, judging from the sound on the windows. 

Aziraphale looked around the bedroom at the clothes strewn everywhere, the aftermath of Crowley’s decision confusion the previous day. “Crowley, dear?”

“I know. But I’m also not too keen on getting out of bed,” he admitted. 

“Haven’t we been in bed pretty much all day?” Aziraphale said. 

“I think so. Isn’t it great?” Crowley said with a grin. 

“Actually – yeah. It is,” Aziraphale admitted, snuggling back under the blankets with him. He had no idea what time it actually was, no idea where most of his clothes were and he really didn’t care. He’d never felt so safe or loved before. “I wish I’d known this was going to happen. I would have gotten you something really special for Christmas.”

“You’re all I really wanted. Corny as that sounded when I said it. But it’s true,” Crowley said, kissing his nose. “At some point I’ll be introducing you to my entire big crazy family. I promise they’re going to love you.” He looked thoughtful. “You know what we should do next year? Some old-school, over the top Christmas card thing.”

“Who’s we?” Aziraphale wasn’t quite getting it.

“Us. Merry Christmas from Crowley and Aziraphale Deveraux-Gordon. How does that sound? Unless we figure out how to hyphenate Shepard in there somewhere. Which I would do just to piss your father off.” 

“You’re making it sound like we’re going to be married or something,” Aziraphale said, bewildered. 

“Well, yeah. Because we are. Someday. Aren’t we?” Crowley looked sheepish again. “I really should have planned this one out, but – would you want to marry me?”

“Now?” Poor Aziraphale was completely confused. 

“I’d say yes, but it would mean putting on pants,” Crowley said. 

“Not to mention trousers,” Aziraphale said. 

They stared at one another in total solemnity for about ten seconds, then Aziraphale looked away, dissolving into a comical, wheezy squeak that Crowley realized was laughter. He also realized that, in the close to a year he’d known Aziraphale, he’d never heard him laugh before. He burst out laughing himself and pulled Aziraphale back for a hug. “Silly angel. I love you so much.”

Aziraphale finally composed himself enough to kiss Crowley softly. “I love you, too. And Crowley?”

“Angel?”

“I’d marry you. But not now. I really don’t feel like trying to find my clothes, either.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Crowley pushed the pillows back against the headboard so he could lean against them, still with Aziraphale in his arms. “But maybe we should figure out something to eat right now?”

“Nothing we can’t have delivered,” Aziraphale said. 

Crowley kissed his nose. “Wait here.” He scrambled out of bed and headed for the living room, returning a few minutes later with his phone. Aziraphale found it both strange and rather appealing how unselfconscious his boyfriend was about being naked. He would have been looking for his bathrobe – which he hoped he hadn’t forgotten – at the very least. Never mind that Crowley had already had his hands – not to mention his lips – on most of what he was trying to hide. He kept thinking that this should be a whole lot more awkward than it had turned out to be. So far they seemed to have the same relationship in bed that they’d had out, albeit with a lot more snogging. 

And Aziraphale had realized that he liked snogging. A lot. 

“It was on the table. Right where I thought,” Crowley said, climbing back into bed and reaching for the charging cable. “And by the way, it’s – yikes, it’s after three. I wonder when we woke up?”

“Probably around noon,” Aziraphale said. He was pretty sure they hadn’t fallen asleep until after four or five AM. “And what are you doing?”

“Looking for food. Because you really don’t want me trying to cook.” Crowley kissed his nose. “My adorable southern pansy.” 

Aziraphale snuggled against him. “Does that Thai place deliver?”


	6. You're my Best Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aziraphale gets a nasty surprise and a brand-new start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be much darker, with Zira's building actually burning down, but I really, really didn't like it. At least this way there's possibly some recourse for the other tenants who get screwed over as well.
> 
> This is pure, 100%, prime fluff, BTW.

When Crowley had sworn that he was going to take Aziraphale to bed and make love to him for three days straight, it had been his usual affectionate hyperbole – or so he thought. By the time he awoke to the sun finally coming through the windows and the sounds of his very happy angel in the kitchen, he wasn’t sure what year it was anymore. His phone was no help – it was dead, the battery too drained to even power up when he plugged it in. He’d forgotten to put it back on charge, probably after they ordered food on – was it Saturday or Sunday? They’d ordered-in dim sum, which was nice, then Aziraphale had started fretting about whether or not he’d overstayed his welcome. Crowley’s attempts to convince him otherwise had landed them back in bed, where they’d been until now – for the most part. Although at one point he’d gone to take a shower and Aziraphale had almost followed him. He found it both sweetly comical and a little bit sad that poor Aziraphale had been too shy to come out with the obvious – that he just wanted to join him. Which Crowley had hoped he would, but Aziraphale just hadn’t been able to work up the nerve. Poor sweet shy angel. 

Come to think of it, what was today?

Despite what the deliberately debauched lead singer of another band (not Freddie – some bloke named Stan Stafford) had once told him, waking up after shagging someone – and yourself – into oblivion wasn’t worse than waking up with a hangover. Then again, ol’ Stan had most likely never made love sober, never mind with an angel - much less awakened to the sounds of said angel trying to find something to eat in his post-apocalyptic ruin of a kitchen…

_Hold it. Is that bacon I smell cooking? Since when do we have bacon? More to the point, since when do we have food?_

He got out of bed, found his robe – the flat was a little cooler than he liked – and went to see just what on earth Aziraphale was up to. Sure enough, Aziraphale was indeed frying bacon. He’d also dredged some mixing bowls out of the cabinet and made pancakes. With real butter and maple syrup. Crowley was very sure that neither of those items had been in his kitchen before now. He was a little less sure about the bacon. 

“Hey angel,” he said. 

“Oh! Crowley…” Aziraphale left the stove briefly to give his love a kiss. “I was going to surprise you.”

“And you did,” Crowley said with a smile. “You shouldn’t have, but I’m not complaining.” His stomach was informing him that he might have forgotten about such niceties as food in his eagerness to shag Aziraphale into the best kind of oblivion. “But since when did we have bacon?”

“We didn’t. I had some stuff delivered. I hope you don’t mind.” Aziraphale looked shy and a little bit sheepish.

“As in groceries? That’s a thing?” Crowley was bit confused and not entirely awake. He usually thought of mornings as being a thing that happened to other people.

“Maddy and Holly told me about it. There’s a place nearby that delivers,” Aziraphale said. “I didn’t know how early they did, but they start at seven.” He’d ordered around seven-fifteen and had everything by quarter after eight. Granted, it hadn’t been that much stuff. He was unfortunately accustomed to being awake far too early on what should have been a day off – days off from school meant extra chores and Bible study as a child, and as an adult, he’d still had to get up and fix Gabriel’s breakfast, doing his best to time things so it was just hitting the table when his ex-boyfriend came in. 

“Wait. You ordered stuff to cook? For me?” Crowley’s eyes went wide. 

“Yeah. I hope that’s okay?” Aziraphale had set the pan with the bacon off the stove. He looked at Crowley apprehensively. “I mean, I’ll clean up everything, I just…”

“You are the sweetest thing ever!” Crowley hugged him tight, shushing his nervous rambling with a kiss. “I don’t deserve you, angel. You’re too good to me.” 

“I just want to make you happy.” Aziraphale kissed him again, softly, their lips barely touching. “I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I promise.” He’d already vowed that he would do anything – and he was sure he meant anything – to keep Crowley happy. 

“Angel, you already are perfect. You make me happy just being here. But you don’t know how much I appreciate this.” Crowley kissed him again, then sat down at the kitchen island to let Aziraphale do his thing. “You probably figured out that I can’t cook.”

“Nanny Rose taught me. She taught my sisters, too.” Aziraphale looked around from piling pancakes on a plate. “She taught me how to do a lot of things behind my father’s back. I wish he hadn’t fired her. I was like, ten?”

“She obviously taught you well, my love,” Crowley said. “And angel? Is it Sunday?”

“Monday,” Aziraphale said, kissing his cheek as he set a plate laden with bacon on the table. “How do you want your eggs?”

“I don’t think I can eat that much. Come and eat with me, love.”

“I should clean up first.” His mother had always served the men, then went to clean up the kitchen from cooking. Then it was back to check on them, then bring any dishes back, then dessert, then cleaning up the table – he never remembered her sitting down with them. 

“I’ll help you with that later,” Crowley said. 

“I’ll make you pancakes from scratch next time,” Aziraphale promised, bringing over the syrup and butter, along with utensils. He’d used pancake mix. 

“Angel…” Crowley pulled him over for a kiss. “This is perfect. It’s more than perfect. Stop fretting.” He kissed Aziraphale again, softly. “I love you, my darling.”

“I love you, too. And I promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend.” Aziraphale looked down. “I won’t make the same mistakes I did with Gabriel. I’ll do everything right this time.”

“I want to punch him in his smug mouth for what he did to you. Making you think that you’re not good enough.” Crowley pulled Aziraphale closer. “You don’t have to be anything except you to make me love you.” Part of him wished he could convince Aziraphale of it, but he loved the shyly sweet, afraid-to-admit-how-happy-he-was-to-hear-it look that his angel got when he told him how wonderful he was. “Now sit down and eat, okay love?” He loved watching Aziraphale eat. He was so polite and delicate and so greedy all at once.

“So, what were you going to do today?” Aziraphale said shyly as he went to finally fetch a plate and utensils for himself. He was pretty much assuming that he was about to get thrown out.

“I guess we should probably plan on leaving the house at some point,” Crowley said. “Do you want to run up to Caansfield and get the tree and stuff?”

“I – don’t have my car…” Aziraphale said awkwardly. 

“I meant with me, silly,” Crowley said with an affectionate laugh, then sobered. “Please don’t tell me Gabriel used you as some kind of errand boy.”

“No, he just – always expected me to – do things? For him.” Aziraphale sat back down, not quite meeting Crowley’s gaze. 

“In other words, yeah, he did. Just when I thought he couldn’t be any more awful.” Crowley shook his head, then squeezed Aziraphale’s hand. “I see we have some things to work on.”

“I’ll do better…” Aziraphale started to say, looking ashamed. 

“As in building self-confidence, learning to tell people when to sod off – including me, when necessary – putting yourself first once in a while. Basic self-esteem 101.” Crowley’s voice was gentle. “You’re the sweetest thing ever, but I need to teach you how and when to be a bit of a bastard, because otherwise this world’s going to eat you alive. It almost has.” He slid over to put a hand on his angel’s cheek. “Remember: you’re worth loving. Got that?”

Aziraphale blushed. “If you keep saying that I might actually start to believe it someday.”

“Which is the point.” Crowley kissed him. “Now let’s eat and figure out what we’re going to do next.” He started to say something, then looked at Aziraphale, realizing. “Wait. Didn’t you say you were going somewhere for the holiday?”

Aziraphale looked down. “I – kind of lied. I didn’t want Holly and Beez to worry about me.” Beez was Holly’s partner. “I don’t have anywhere to go. I was probably just not going to leave my flat for three weeks.”

“Oh, baby.” Crowley reached over to squeeze his hand. “You were really going to do that to yourself?”

“I didn’t want to put anyone out, or make them worry about me. Besides, I’m used to it. Being alone, that is…” Aziraphale looked away, then back at his still-empty plate. He was waiting until Crowley got what he wanted before taking whatever was left over. If anything was, that is. It was what he was used to. 

“Hey.” Crowley lifted his chin so he had to look up and meet his concerned, gentle gaze. “You’re not alone any more. We all love you. I love you. Now let’s eat and figure out what we’re doing. Sound good?”

Aziraphale nodded. He was determined to get it right this time, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Crowley would let him stay.

~*~

A couple of hours later, they went over to Aziraphale’s building, intending to fetch some more clothes from his flat, only to be greeted by a notice on the door.

“What on earth?” Aziraphale put a hand over his mouth. “Oh no…”

“What is it?” Crowley looked over his shoulder. “Oh bugger. That’s not right.” The letter was a notice regarding a steep rent increase for Aziraphale’s flat. 

“There’s no way I can afford this…” Jim paid his employees well, but not well enough to afford an 1,800.00 per month increase in rent – due immediately. “Crowley, what am I going to do? I can’t find a place on such short notice! And with the holiday…” Aziraphale was almost in tears. He’d been homeless before and now it was about to happen again. “I’m already paying nineteen hundred as it is.” Never mind that after dropping a good 1,700 on his car, he only had about three hundred pounds to his name. He put his hands over his face, trying to breathe, but he was trembling and starting to hyperventilate. _Of course it all had to go wrong. It had to…_

“Wait. You’re paying nineteen hundred for this?!” Crowley’s eyes went wide, then narrowed dangerously. “Your landlord is a prick. Maddy only pays eight hundred for her place, and it’s nice.” Maddy lived several blocks away, in a cute, bright corner flat with lots of windows. “I hate the way people keep taking advantage of you, angel. What is wrong with them?”

“I’m sorry…!” Aziraphale managed to sob. Shock and remembered trauma – the escape from his parents that he hadn’t told any of them about, which had led to a couple of very cold months living in his decrepit car until Gabriel had taken him in like a stray dog - had sent him right over the edge into a full-blown panic attack. He expected Crowley to walk away in disgust – not gather him close and try to comfort him. 

“Angel, it’s not you. It’s them. They keep hurting you.” Crowley held him, rubbing his back, trying to soothe him enough to get him to listen. 

“Crowley?” Aziraphale finally sniffled, looking up. “C-can I stay with you? At least until I find a place? I’ll be the perfect roommate. I swear. I’ll pay my half of everything, I promise, I won’t take up any room and I’m used to sleeping on the sofa…I’ll even sleep on the floor…” 

Crowley shushed him with a kiss. “Angel, slow down a minute.”

Aziraphale looked at him, wide-eyed and fearful. 

“Okay, listen. First off, you’re totally moving in with me. I want my angel safe. Second, I own the place. There’s no rent. No half of anything for you to pay. And third, you’re not sleeping on the sofa. Or the floor. You’re sleeping in my bed, with me, because I love you and I want you in my arms.” Crowley kissed his angel’s pert nose. “And you’re going to take up as much room as you need.”

“Y-you don’t mind?” Aziraphale sniffled. 

“I love you. Why would I mind?”

“Oh, Crowley…!” Aziraphale clung to him, breaking into tears all over again, only more of relief this time. Crowley hugged him tighter, once again silently threatening to dismember whoever it was that had treated Aziraphale so shamefully that he couldn’t even make himself believe anyone wanted him around. 

“I’m sorry…” Aziraphale finally sniffled. 

“Don’t be, love. You didn’t do anything. And this would upset anyone. Now, how long do we have to get your stuff out?”

Aziraphale consulted the notice, trying to wipe his eyes with the cuff of his sleeve. “By Friday.”

“Classy. Right before Christmas.” Crowley rolled his eyes, then fished a bunch of fast-food napkins out of his coat pocket. “They’re clean, sweetie. Just crumpled. By the way, how much stuff do you have? Like, furniture-wise?” He was wondering if they’d have to hit Freddie and Tianna up for storage space. 

“Just the mattress. The rest of it was there when I moved in.” Aziraphale took one of the napkins, wiping at his eyes, then blowing his nose. 

“And we’re not taking that thing. So – just clothes and stuff?” 

Aziraphale nodded. “Books, mostly. I don’t have a lot of stuff.”

“Cool. Want to run and borrow Tigi’s car and take care of it now?”

“M-might as well…” Aziraphale had that slightly glassy-eyed, completely overwhelmed look that always broke Crowley’s heart a bit. He did his best, but he had yet to learn that some things were more than one person could – or should – be expected to handle. Like now.

“You are aware that I’m going to be helping you with this?” Crowley said gently, kissing his nose. 

“You d-don’t have to. I keep putting you out…” From the look on Aziraphale’s face, he hadn’t been aware of it at all. 

Crowley hugged him. “I see you have a lot to learn about how real relationships work.”

~*~

“I think we’re going to need to get another bookcase for you, angel,” Crowley was saying. Aziraphale had badly underestimated the number of books he had, just like Crowley had badly overestimated the amount of closet and drawer space his angel was going to need. He foresaw a clothes-shopping expedition in their near future, because some of Aziraphale’s things looked pretty worn and he desperately needed a winter coat. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have brought all of them…” Aziraphale looked uncertain. They were sitting on the floor going through the boxes and bags he and Crowley had hastily packed. His now-former landlord had given them exactly one hour to get everything out. And hadn’t been nice about it at all. He’d called them a few choice homophobic slurs that had led Tianna, who had come over to lend a hand as well, to call him a few choice epithets in return. 

“And why not? I want to read some of these, you know.” Crowley was flattered to see several of his recommendations amid them. He looked over at the seven-shelf bookcase that held his books and several plants. “So, what do you think? Another big one or two smaller ones either side?”

“For what?”

“Bookcases. For you. I mean, we could cram all your stuff on that one, but it would look bad and probably not all fit.”

“Crowley, you don’t have to…”

“Angel, I want to.” Crowley took his hands. “I know everyone’s going to think this is sudden, but we’ve known each other a year.” He looked down, then back up. “Seriously, though, please stay? I mean, if you do want to find a place, I’m not going to be hurt, and I’ll still be your boyfriend – I mean, if you’ll have me, that is. It’s just that – I don’t want to be alone anymore. I’ve spent almost a year wishing you were with me. I love you so much. And I’m not like Gabriel, I promise. You don’t have to come home and clean up and wait on me hand and foot. I just want to have you here to snuggle with.” He kissed Aziraphale softly. “I want to come home to you. I want to fall asleep with you in my arms and wake up holding you. I even want to do the grocery shopping with you. And I hate grocery shopping, as you probably figured out.”

Aziraphale hugged him tight. “I’m still going to cook for you, though. I like doing that.”

Crowley kissed him. “I would appreciate that. I’m the world’s worst cook.” He leaned his forehead against Aziraphale’s. “Want to get that stuff tomorrow and decorate this place?”

Aziraphale kissed him back. “I’d love to. I’ve never done anything like that, you know.”

“It’s going to be fun. Now, about those bookcases…” Crowley retrieved the tablet he was currently charging on the coffee table, looking for the site he’d ordered the larger bookcase from. “Here we are. I was thinking of getting the two smaller matching ones for you and putting them either side. See? Five shelves each. Unless you want a different style?” 

“Shouldn’t they match?” Aziraphale looked at him. “And I like that dark cherry finish on them.” Crowley’s flat had a short hallway leading into the big, open front room with its high, arched, almost floor-to-ceiling windows. The brick outside wall and the white interior ones would have looked quite stark paired with the white oak floors had it not been for Crowley’s sense of style – and his jungle’s worth of houseplants. “And Crowley?”

“What, love?”

“Thank you. I owe you so much.” Aziraphale hugged him. “You just saved me. I’d be homeless right now without you.” He shivered. 

Crowley hugged him closer. “Welcome home, angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to echo the scene with the bookshop's (temporary) destruction and Zira suddenly not having any place to go. But the scene I wrote where the building actually burns down made me feel sick. So his landlord evicts most of the tenants in an effort to turn it into "luxury" flats.


	7. So Happy Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a fluffy interlude, for the most part. 
> 
> Warning for some briefly remembered violence - Aziraphale has a nightmare about the conversion "therapy" he was sent to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mehitibel is based on a former coworker's cat, BTW. I don't have a cat, but I've always wanted one and I'm planning on adopting one soon. 
> 
> I promise some more smut in the next chapter. This one's almost all fluff.

Later that afternoon, Aziraphale discovered another rule regarding his relationship with Crowley. 

It was okay to say no. 

After the mad scramble of clearing out his old flat and moving his few worldly possessions into Crowley’s place, he was exhausted, really too tired to eat, even. When Crowley had suggested a celebratory “nap”, he hadn’t said no, but had told Crowley to do whatever he pleased and not worry about pleasing him in return. 

“Angel, if you’re not in the mood, just tell me to forget about it,” Crowley had said, kissing his nose. They were, by that point, lying snuggled on the sofa, Aziraphale nestled in Crowley’s arms with his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” Aziraphale said softly. “I owe you so much for this.”

Crowley kissed his forehead. “You gave me your heart. That’s more than enough.” It was corny, perhaps, but true. “You definitely don’t owe me your body on demand. Speaking of on demand, let’s just stream something and snuggle, okay?”

Which was how, an hour later, they were still snuggled together, watching _Prodigal Son,_ with Crowley trying to convince Aziraphale that he and one of the show’s stars had been separated at birth. Aziraphale wasn’t seeing the resemblance. 

“If I wasn’t too lazy to get up and find my phone, I’d Google a picture of him without the beard. Because he totally looks like an older version of you,” Crowley said. “I’ve met him, by the way. He’s really, really nice. A little bit feral, but super nice.” He laughed. “I was with my dad at the time – this was about a year ago – and my mom texted him – my dad, I mean – an eggplant emoji. As in the word “Later” with an eggplant and a question mark. So my dad had no clue what it meant, so he shows it to me like, “Crowley, what’s your mom talking about?” Which ended up with me totally embarrassed and Michael Sheen trying to explain to my dad what the heck my mom was on about without laughing out a lung. It was certainly one of the more – awkward – moments of my life.”

“Even I know what that eggplant means,” Aziraphale said, laughing. 

“And my dad isn’t usually that clueless,” Crowley said with a laugh. “He got a laugh out of it, too. They’re actually pretty close friends now.” 

“He’s not related to your mom, is he?” Aziraphale looked at him. “Didn’t you say she was using her maiden name?”

“No, her given name is Deveraux. Sheen was her grandmother’s name,” Crowley said. “Gordon is my dad’s given name. I’m not sure where he got Lowe from.”

“I hope they don’t hate me too much,” Aziraphale said after a moment. Crowley was so close to his family and they sounded so – nice. He hoped they’d at least put up with him. He wasn’t brave enough to hope they’d like him. 

“Stop that. They’re all going to love you,” Crowley said, kissing his nose.

Aziraphale snuggled closer. All he’d ever wanted was someone he could just be with – no requirements, no demands, just someone to be with who actually loved him and wanted him around. He was still not entirely convinced he wasn’t going to wake up on his old sofa alone – but maybe, he allowed himself, he wasn’t. Maybe he was awake – at least for now…

Crowley realized about five minutes later that Aziraphale had fallen asleep in his arms. He smiled, turning off the TV and hugging him closer. A nap with a warm, sleepy angel sounded like a pretty good idea right about now.

~*~

Aziraphale started awake on the sofa to find himself alone. 

Except it wasn’t his old sofa. This one was - nice. 

It took him a moment to remember he was in Crowley’s flat, with night just falling and all the lights coming on outside. As for Crowley, he hadn’t gone far. He was over in the little kitchen opening a can of cat food for the impatient Mehitibel. 

“Can you give me a minute? Geez…” he was saying, obviously amused at the mewing diva standing at the spot her bowl full of food should have been, switching her tail in slow disgust at how poorly her human was trained. He looked around, seeing Aziraphale awake. “Angel, look at this. See what I have to put up with just for a little pussy?”

“You’re probably lucky she didn’t understand that,” Aziraphale said with a laugh – an actual laugh that melted Crowley’s heart. 

“Actually, she probably did, but she puts up with me because I feed her,” Crowley said. 

“I always wanted a cat,” Aziraphale said, leaning on the back of the sofa to watch. “And a dog. I never got either one.”

“I don’t know how Miss Bitch Face here would take to either one, but I’ve thought about getting her a friend,” Crowley said, putting the bowl down. “And you’d better not make me look bad in front of my angel.” He winked at Aziraphale. 

“She’s so pretty. What kind of cat is she?” Mehitibel was a soft, plush gray with amber eyes a shade or two lighter than Crowley’s. 

“She’s actually a purebred Russian Blue. She even had papers, although I’ll be buggered if I know what I did with them,” Crowley said. “However, I got her at a rescue shelter.”

“If she’s purebred, why was she at a shelter?”

“Her eyes. The breed standard is green, and her eyes never changed from amber.” Crowley watched Mehitibel eat. “Obviously I couldn’t allow such blatant discrimination, so I brought her home with me.” He rejoined Aziraphale on the sofa. “The funny thing is that she usually takes forever to warm up to someone new, but remember the first time you came over here? She was on your lap in like, a minute.” He kissed Aziraphale softly. “I think she knew that you were going to be my angel.”

Aziraphale looked shy. “I love when you call me that. I really do. It makes me feel so – I don’t know. Wanted?” He was having a hard time finding the right word. “I never knew anything could be like this.” He pressed against Crowley, who willingly took him in his arms. “I’m sorry if I seem a little – I’m just really overwhelmed. It’s like everything I’ve ever wished for is actually happening.”

“Honestly, angel? Same here.” Crowley kissed the top of his head. “I hope I’m not going too fast for you.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “I owe you so much. I’d be so screwed without you.” He looked away, then back. “It’s not that I don’t love you and want to be with you. It’s all I want. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to have all this happen so soon.” He looked down. “I was expecting to spend the next three weeks alone and trying to make up something that sounded believable enough for nobody to guess that I hadn’t left my flat since the thirteenth. I wasn’t expecting to be with someone who actually, well – loves me.” 

Crowley hugged him tighter. “My darling angel.” 

~*~

Later, snuggled together on the sofa after a cozy, ordered-in Chinese dinner, Aziraphale was using Crowley’s tablet to check Facebook while Crowley surreptitiously browsed Amazon from his phone. He had a few things in mind to surprise Aziraphale with. And right now he was very glad Amazon Prime was a thing that existed. Mehitibel, for her part, was equally glad that Aziraphale’s lap was a thing that existed. As much of a hedonist as her human, she had chosen the plusher of the two available laps to doze in. Not that Crowley blamed her. 

He realized that this was, in a very real sense, his angel’s first Christmas. At least his first normal one – well, more or less normal. As normal as Christmas could be with his family, anyway. And he intended to make it as wonderful as possible. Although, as far as he was concerned, the fact that he had Aziraphale with him at all had taken care of that already. 

“Crowley, look at this,” Aziraphale said suddenly. “It wasn’t just me.”

“What do you mean?” Crowley said, looking around. 

“This.” Aziraphale showed him the page he was looking at. “There was a Facebook group that we had behind our landlord’s back. Look how many people got kicked out. I thought it was just me.”

“This is so not right,” Crowley said. 

“I mean, I’m so lucky I have you, but I don’t know what some of the others are going to do. This one lady’s like almost ninety. And this couple has a new baby…” He pointed to one post. “And he’s on disability, and this couple has a child being treated for cancer…”

“I didn’t know you knew any of your neighbors,” Crowley said. 

“I couldn’t say goodbye or anything with him standing there calling us names,” Aziraphale said. 

“And Tianna calling him names in retaliation,” Crowley added. Aziraphale’s now-ex landlord had called them a number of nasty homophobic slurs, prompting Tianna to let loose with a tirade of language that Crowley was sure could have made someone’s ears fall off. “Angel, let me have that for a moment. I want to take screenshots of all of this. In case it gets taken down.”

“Why? It’s his building. What can we do?” Aziraphale felt horribly guilty. He’d escaped unscathed, with a place to go and a boyfriend who loved him, but the others had obviously not been so lucky. 

“I’m pretty sure that everything he did is illegal,” Crowley said, leaning over to kiss Aziraphale softly. “I may be an idiot who’s only famous for being – well, famous – but if I can use it to help someone, I will.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Aziraphale said. “Do you think there’s really something we can do?”

“I don’t know, but we can find out,” Crowley said. “Wait here.” He went to get something out of his coat pocket. “I saved that stupid notice, too.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I have some ideas. Don’t worry. He’ll never know you had anything to do with it.” Crowley kissed his nose. 

“I’d better put the food up. Unless you want the rest of it?” Aziraphale started to get up. 

“I ordered way too much on purpose, angel. Because leftovers.” Crowley admitted. 

“I should learn how to cook Chinese food, I guess,” Aziraphale said. 

“I don’t know, sweetie. Not that I don’t think you could, but why bother? Leave it to the experts. Now if you ever wanted to give chicken marsala a try – or curry chicken, for that matter…and listen to me telling you what to do here.” He looked sheepish.

“I like to cook. Really. And I’ll do anything you want me to.” Aziraphale came back over. “Anything.”

“In that case, come back over here and snuggle with me,” Crowley said. 

Aziraphale couldn’t say no to that. 

~*~

Crowley started awake out of a nightmare about three in the morning, heart pounding. He didn’t know what had scared him in the dream. He’d been in a kind of storm cellar with his sister Sydney, looking at a bunch of generically-labelled cans, when the door at the head of the stairs had opened and a shadow had fallen across them. He’d looked around, felt a bolt of absolute terror shoot through him…

And mercifully awakened to find himself safe with a warm, snuggly angel asleep in his arms. With a shudder, he curled closer, feeling his fear dissipate. 

It was worth the nightmare for this. 

The movement prompted a whimper from Aziraphale, who wasn’t as peacefully asleep as Crowley thought. Unbeknownst to him, his angel was also lost in a nightmare of his own, but hadn’t yet awakened. Unlike his, though, Aziraphale’s nightmare was one he’d lived through. 

_“Oh Lord, we beseech you, heal this wayward son! Make of him something that will bring honor to his father’s name. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, we command you, demon begone!”_

_Aziraphale tried to resist, terrified, but powerful hands pushed him down into icy water, holding him despite his frantic struggle to at least get his head above, because he hadn’t had time to take a breath and he was drowning…_

He cried out and awoke, shaking and gasping, with no idea where he was for a moment. 

“Angel! Angel, it’s okay…” Crowley hugged him tight. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale clung to him, still trembling. He couldn’t say it had all been a dream – it hadn’t been, at one point – but it was over now and he was safe. He had someone to protect him. Except he’d just woken Crowley up… “I-I’m sorry…”

“Sorry for what? I was actually awake.” Crowley kissed his nose. “If it’s any consolation, I just woke up from a nightmare, too. And even if I hadn’t been, I still would have wanted you to wake me up.” He hugged Aziraphale tighter. “You’re really shaking, baby. Are you all right?”

“N-now I am…” Even if the unthinkable happened and Shadwell did come after him, try to take him back to “camp,” Crowley would save him. Maybe. He hoped. 

“My poor baby.” Crowley kissed the top of his head. “Do you want to talk about it, love?”

“I – I just dreamed I was drowning, is all…” Aziraphale didn’t want to go into it, because it would mean going into the whole story – his escape from that Christian conversion “therapy camp,” being forced to live in his decrepit Mini Cooper for two months in the dead of winter, too broke to even afford petrol, until Gabriel had basically taken him in like a stray dog – and treated him like one. Except that he was so used to being mocked and degraded and smacked around that it hadn’t seemed too bad at the time. At least he’d had a roof over his head and (usually) food to eat. Because honestly, how could he expect Crowley to still love him if he knew all that?

Crowley knew it wasn’t the whole story – not from the way Aziraphale was trembling – but he didn’t say so. Someone had hurt his angel, and there was going to be hell to pay when he found out who. He didn’t say as much though. He just held his angel close until he fell back to sleep. 

~*~

The next morning, before heading up to Caansfield to fetch the tree and decorations, they stopped by the main office at the complex. 

“Do I have to register or something?” Aziraphale said anxiously.

“Just your car, love,” Crowley said. “I don’t know if you saw the little pass thing on mine, but it lets you in the back gate. You’ll need it to park when you get your car back. There’s also a bus that comes right by the front – I think it picks up at the stop near the office at about four-forty and drops off about five or so. And of course, I can always pick you up if you don’t feel like walking or waiting for the bus.” It would be about a ten-minute walk from Jim’s office to the complex – Crowley had done it many times himself – but it wasn’t a nice walk when it was raining or dark. 

“I’m not going to put you out like that,” Aziraphale said.

“It’s not “putting me out.” You keep forgetting how much I want to be with you,” Crowley kissed his cheek, then knocked politely on the site manager’s office door. “Lil?”

“Come on in,” she replied. She was tall, of some indeterminate age and quite striking, with long black hair pulled neatly back into a single braid and green eyes. “Hey, Crowley, what’s up?” She knew all of the residents. 

“Well, first off, this is my boyfriend Aziraphale,” he said. “Angel, this is Lil, the site manager. She’s who you contact if there’s a problem with anything. Her number’s on the refrigerator.” 

“Sounds like you’ll be joining us,” Lil said, shaking his hand. “Welcome to Kensington Gardens.”

“Yeah, he’s moving in with me. He’ll need one of those car pass thingies for the gate for when he gets his car back from the shop,” Crowley said. “Also, Lil? Could we ask you something about rental laws?”

“Sure. I may not be able to answer, but I’ll give it a shot.”

“Can a landlord say, just put something like this on everyone’s door and tell them to pay up or get out?” He showed her the letter. 

“Umm… short answer, no. Long answer, hell no, are you kidding me?!” She looked at Aziraphale. “I assume this is part of why you’re here.”

“It wasn’t just me. There were a whole bunch of other people who got kicked out.” 

“This is – illegal on so many fronts,” she said, “First, he can’t raise rents without having the affected tenants sign a new contract. Two, he has to give you two months minimum, then get a court order to evict you. Three, what about your deposit? Did he keep it?”

Aziraphale nodded. “He said wear and tear.” He really could have used that thirty-eight hundred back, too. Even part of it.

“Bollocks. He can’t keep it for that.” She shook her head. “Was it just you?”

“No. Looks like he threw out at least half the building.” Crowley showed her the screenshots. “Can we do anything? Do we even have a case?”

“You have a case on several accounts. Do me a favor and email me those screenshots. I’m going to make a copy of this letter. Oh, and get your parking pass.” She smiled at Aziraphale. “Just a quick form to fill out and you’ll be all set.”


	8. Meet the 'Rents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale finally sees the house Crowley mostly grew up in, and gets to meet his parents. 
> 
> Warning for remembered verbal/physical abuse. Aziraphale's family isn't like Crowley's. Plus Aziraphale's panic attack and subsequent self-abusive thoughts. 
> 
> Also, very awkward NSFW scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crowley's dubious migraine cure was one I tried in desperation - with the same results. 0/10, would NOT recommend.

Two hours later, they were in the driveway of the Caansfield house that Aziraphale had seen many times in magazine photos – the palatial (to him, anyway) home of David Lowe and Anna Sheen – also known as David Gordon and Anastasia Deveraux or, to Crowley, Dad and Mom. He was starting to realize that sooner or later – sooner, given what Crowley was saying – he was going to meet the woman who Freddie referred to as his “mom crush.” On TV, Anna played the long-suffering wife of a man who was supposedly not based on Aziraphale’s controversial father, but in fact, probably was. However, she wasn’t like his real-life mother. Anna’s character was loving and caring, fiercely protective of her many children. She was more like his beloved Nanny Rose. He wondered if she was anything like that in real life. 

And Crowley was realizing that, once again, he hadn’t _quite_ thought things through.

“Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time…” He had just come to the realization that the box containing his parents’ seven-foot tall Christmas tree did not, would not and would never ever fit into his 1984 Bentley Mulsanne. He’d briefly considered tying it to the roof, but it looked like it was going to start raining again any minute. “I’d take my dad’s Range Rover, but I think he has the key. I can’t find it anywhere. And I don’t know what he did with the spare.” He looked around with a wry smile. “How much you want to bet he doesn’t, either? Not that I should talk. Of course, my mom says that’s where I get it from.” His mother, with the greatest of affection, sometimes called him and his father the world’s two most intelligent dumbasses. 

Aziraphale was standing nearby, looking anxious. Moments like this were when either Gabriel or his father would likely have taken their frustration out on him, resulting in a good verbal and/or physical smacking down. _What are you looking at me like that for? You think this is funny, you little heathen? I’ll wipe that smile off your fat little ugly face…_ he flinched, looking quickly away, remembering his father’s hands gripping his shoulders, the shaking and the brutal open-handed blow that always followed, along with the mocking laughter of his older brothers. _You’re pathetic. Why can’t you be like them? You’re not fit to be a Shepard, you filthy little sodomite…_

“I’m sure we can still find a nice one. Maybe even on sale.” Crowley decided after a moment, still frowning at his car and the eight-foot-long box that wasn’t going in it. “We’ll stop off on the way back – hey, are you okay, angel?” He left the box leaning against the Bentley to take him by the shoulders, looking worried. He’d seen Aziraphale get the same frightened, faraway look many times before, and had realized well before they became lovers that it meant he was remembering something that no one should ever have had to go through. He wanted to ask him about it – sooner or later he’d have to – but he didn’t know how. 

“I – uh, yeah.” Aziraphale tried not to cringe. Instead of a shaking and a slap, however, Crowley rubbed his arms, then gently cupped a hand to his cheek, stroking softly with his thumb. Aziraphale shivered and leaned into his touch, looking up into his boyfriend’s dark amber eyes. Crowley gazed at him for another long moment before leaning over to kiss him, his lips warm and very soft. 

“You okay?” he said. 

Aziraphale nodded, burrowing into his arms. _You knew he wasn’t going to hit you, you stupid idiot. What’s wrong with you? If he knew half of how screwed up you are, he’d run the other way…_

Crowley hugged him tighter. “Come on. Let’s put the tree back and I’ll show you around the place. Sound good?”

“Will your parents mind?”

“Heck no. Me and my sisters are in and out of here all the time. Of course, neither of them are in the UK either right now, either,” Crowley said. “Come on, angel. I’ll show you where I grew up. Well, part of it. I spent a lot of summers in the States.” Aziraphale watched as he easily hefted the bulky box. 

“Do you need a hand with that?” he said shyly.

“It’s not that heavy. Just get the door for me if you wouldn’t mind, angel.”

Aziraphale ran ahead of him up the stairs, pushing the door open, then peeked in as Crowley dragged the box back in. 

“Come on in, angel,” Crowley said with a laugh, gently pulling him in and shutting the door, turning on the light as he did. “I’ll show you around the place.”

“Will your parents mind?” Aziraphale said again, anxiously.

“Of course not. And this way, you’ll know your way around when we come up to visit.” Crowley took him by the hand, leading him out of the flyer into the front room. 

“Oh wow…” It was strange to be standing in the middle of a place he’d seen pictures of in magazines. There was everything, the big front window with the fancy drapes and matching sheers, where he supposed a tree that huge would go, the brown leather sofa, the coordinating tapestry-print chairs, the intricately patterned blue-and-brown carpeting with the dark blue and gold fringe, the big fireplace. Except – it didn’t look the way it did in the photos. It looked – lived in, for want of a better word. There were books and magazines scattered about, things weren’t perfectly neat. It looked like, well, a regular home. Granted, a big home, but a home. 

He hadn’t expected it to look so inviting. So – cozy. 

“Here we are,” Crowley led him over to a wall full of framed photos. “That’s my mom and dad, that’s my one sister, Slater, there’s Syd, the other twin, that’s Jada – she’s the youngest. She’s with my Grandma Gordon right now until they get back. There I am – oh man, that’s a bad picture of me, don’t look at it…”

It actually wasn’t, but Aziraphale didn’t say as much. Crowley’s hair was shorter in it – about to his shoulders – and rather ruffled, but he looked about the same as always, down to the sunglasses. Despite nasty rumors of drug and/or alcohol problems, Aziraphale knew the real reason behind Crowley’s dark glasses was migraines. He’d started keeping Excedrin Migraine in his desk at work after poor Crowley, desperate for relief, had downed two aspirin, two paracetamols and three No-Doze tablets from Ned’s secret stash in the conference room, all washed down with an energy drink. Not only had it not gotten rid of his headache, he’d been awake for the next thirty-six hours thinking about his folly. 

He couldn’t get over how comfortable the house looked. He’d expected an imposing museum of a place, chilly, polished and stark, with disdainful servants everywhere. Not polished wood and photos on the walls. 

And nobody else around. 

~*~

They ended up in Crowley’s old bedroom, which still had some old band posters hanging up, along with the usual furniture. The bed was made, with a gray cotton throw across the bottom.

Crowley sat down on the bed and patted it. “Come here, angel.”

Aziraphale joined him, looking shy. “I hope I’m not going to get you in trouble.”

Crowley laughed and pulled him down on the bed to kiss him. “What? It’s not like I’m going to get you pregnant.” 

Aziraphale had to laugh at that. He snuggled closer. “I’m probably not the first boyfriend you snuck up here. Everyone must have been in love with you in school. You’re so cool and so - hot.” _Oh God, did I just say I’m his boyfriend?!_

“Angel…” Crowley kissed his nose. “I was pretty much the opposite of cool. Never mind hot. I was kind of a nerd.”

“No, you were hot,” Aziraphale said. “You still are.”

“More like not. You, on the other hand, are extremely hot,” Crowley said, kissing him.

“Now you’re just being silly.” Aziraphale drew back enough to look at him. 

“No, you…ow…” Crowley flinched and rubbed a spot at the base of his neck near his right shoulder. “Bugger. I thought that was better. Guess not.”

“What is it?” Aziraphale said, concerned. 

“I messed up a nerve in my neck a few months ago. You don’t want to know how.” Crowley looked sheepish. “It might have involved some solo – activities – your father wouldn’t have approved of.”

“Solo activities?” Aziraphale didn’t get it.

“Otherwise known as jerking off. You know, fapping.” Crowley pantomimed it and Aziraphale blushed. 

Crowley laughed ruefully and kissed him. “Or also known as only I could hurt myself masturbating. I thought for a moment I’d given myself a stroke when I came, it hurt so bad. Talk about a buzz kill. Worse, then I couldn’t do anything for like, weeks, because it would start in again.” He kissed Aziraphale’s nose. “It’s okay now. Plus, now you know my darkest secret. Well, one of them. The other involved me, a joint, and a two-pound bag of Cool Ranch Doritos.” 

“I wouldn’t need to get high for that. Just give me the bag,” Aziraphale admitted. “And Crowley? Can I ask you a really weird question?”

“Sure. What is it, angel?”

“Did you ever – when you – did you pretend it was me?” Aziraphale blushed again. 

“I – uh…” Crowley hesitated, then nodded sheepishly. 

“What were we doing?”

Now Crowley was sure he was the one blushing. “Well, uh…that I was, well – that you caught me in the act and decided to – help finish things.”

“Were we here?” Aziraphale’s eyes were very wide.

Crowley nodded, not sure how Aziraphale was going to take this.

“Uh – okay…” Aziraphale looked hesitant, but game. He’d never imagined being anyone’s sexual fantasy, let alone Crowley Deveraux-Gordon’s. “We can try. Sure. So, um – should I go put that Christmas tree back in the basement before one of us - forgets? While you just – wait here and - relax?” He was looking more at his boyfriend’s lap than anything else. 

“Yeah. Just – put it somewhere in the front room.” Crowley was torn between total embarrassment and equally total arousal over Aziraphale actually wanting to do this. 

“Okay…” He got off the bed, then looked back from the door. “You’re sure they’re not going to be back?”

“They’re in South Africa, angel,” Crowley said with a laugh. At least they had been as of two hours ago, and his mother had said they had several more scenes to film. 

As soon as he left, Crowley scrambled off the bed, tossing the throw at he foot across it to protect the duvet – they could always bring the throw with them and wash it, and he wanted it for the foot of what was now their bed – and quickly stripped off most of his clothes, leaving his shirt on, but unbuttoned. He had to do this quickly, before embarrassment got the better of him. He knelt on the bed, closing his eyes and slowly stroking along the length of his half-erect cock. Wasn’t this what he’d been doing? Well, no, he’d been lying down, but in his fantasy he’d been in this position, and hadn’t heard Aziraphale let himself in. Why they were here, rather than at the Kensington flat, he had no idea. The flat would have made more sense, but then again, sexual fantasies weren’t supposed to make sense, he thought. He shivered a little, starting to get into a rhythm stroking himself, trying to go lightly. Yeah, it didn’t have to make sense, and he probably should have remembered lube, but this really wasn’t the way he’d imagined this trip going – not that he minded. 

Aziraphale, always helpful, actually had dragged the unwieldy tree box into the front room, then very quietly slipped back up the stairs, wanting to actually surprise Crowley. If he was going to be his boyfriend’s sex fantasy come to life, he might as well play the part as accurately as possible. He hesitated, then snuck into Crowley’s bathroom, finding an unopened tube of lubricant hidden in the cabinet. He’d somehow known Crowley would have one somewhere. _Dear silly Crowley. Just because I have no idea what I’m doing doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it. Or you, as the case may be._ For all his shyness and insecurity, Aziraphale had a rebellious – yes, one might even say bastard - streak that even he didn’t realize existed. It had given him the courage to hide in the back of a laundry truck to escape conversion camp, the reason he’d slept in his car, disabled and out of petrol as it was, for two very cold months rather than crawl back to his parents’ compound – he could hardly call it “home.” If he’d landed in an abusive relationship afterwards, well – he hadn’t known anything different existed at the time. But now he did. 

Crowley, meanwhile, had momentarily forgotten that Aziraphale was coming back, although he was indeed imagining that he was here, that it was his hand stroking him, pushing him back on the bed to kiss him, one hand on his swollen cock, the other playing with his nipple…

“Crowley?!” Aziraphale actually was as taken aback as he sounded. He hadn’t expected Crowley to look so - well hot. He was kneeling on the bed with his red hair falling forward over his flushed face, his cock rock-hard in his hand, the tip wet and glistening. “Oh my God, Crowley…” For some reason, him being clad in nothing but his unbuttoned shirt was hotter than if he’d been totally naked. 

“Angel?!” Crowley was as startled in real life as he had been in his fantasy. For a moment he thought Aziraphale was actually put off, but then he saw the look on his face. “I…wasn’t expecting you…”

"You really should know better than to start without me, you know,” Aziraphale rallied himself and joined Crowley on the bed, pushing him back into the pillows to kiss him, doing what he’d done in Crowley’s dreams – taking his now-aching erection in one hand and stroking his nipple with the other. Crowley moaned into the kiss, arching into his angel’s touch. It was exactly the way he’d imagined it, and he couldn’t believe the normally timid Aziraphale was being this bold. 

“Angel, please…” He gasped as Aziraphale bit softly at the side of his neck, sucking gently at the soft skin, although not hard enough to leave a mark, before kissing him on the mouth again.

“I couldn’t wait…” he got out when their lips parted. 

“Rather naughty of you, wasn’t it?” Aziraphale murmured, kissing him again – then unexpectedly smacking him on his bare bottom hard enough to make him yelp. 

“Angel!” Not that Crowley minded – quite the opposite, actually. If Aziraphale was going to start learning how to be a bit of a bastard, this was certainly a good time. 

Aziraphale kissed his nose. “Looks like I’m going to have to finish what you started.” He got off the bed to get undressed, quickly, before he lost what nerve he had. It was, after all, the middle of the day, and even though it was cloudy yet again, the room wasn’t dark enough to hide his less-than-perfect (to him, anyway) body from Crowley. 

Crowley watched, shifting a bit uncomfortably. Despite Aziraphale’s negative opinion of his own body, he found his angel insanely appealing. All those soft round curves, that plush bottom, thick thighs. Gah. So much to grab onto, to kiss, to hold onto even when they were just snuggling, never mind when they were making love. All that wrapped around the sweetest, kindest and bravest angel he could ever have imagined. 

Aziraphale got back on the bed with him. “So now what do I do?”

“I…don’t know. This was when I came,” Crowley admitted. 

“Fat lot of help you are,” Aziraphale mock-grumbled, kissing him. “Do I have to do everything around here?”

“No, just me.” Crowley couldn’t resist. 

“Very funny.” Aziraphale couldn’t believe he was getting away with teasing his boyfriend this way – and that Crowley was obviously enjoying it. “So what would I have done if you hadn’t come at the wrong time?”

“Probably gotten on top of me and fucked me senseless,” Crowley admitted. 

“I’ve never been on top.” Aziraphale paused, wide-eyed. Of course, up until a few days ago, he’d never been on the bottom, either. 

Crowley kissed him. “Do you want to? I’m yours. Anything you desire.”

Aziraphale hesitated a moment longer, then returned the kiss. “Yeah, I – I actually do.” 

“Wait…” Crowley slipped out of his shirt, then twined around Aziraphale, pulling him close. “Oh, angel, I want you so badly. I want you inside me. Please?”

Aziraphale pushed him down on the bed, feeling unusually bold. “You asked for this, remember.”

“More like begged. Pleaded…” Crowley broke off with a little cry when Aziraphale slid down and swirled his tongue ever-so-slowly around the head of his cock. “Oh fuck, angel, please…”

“I’m getting to that,” Aziraphale retorted playfully. Now that he was certain Crowley didn’t mind being teased a little, he was enjoying it, too. He hoped he’d be able to please him. He spent a few more minutes licking him, turning him into a quivering mess, before reaching for the tube he’d dropped. 

“Would it help if I rolled over?” Crowley said breathlessly. 

“Wait.” Aziraphale wasn’t at all sure what he was doing, but he thought he had the right spot. “Hold still…” He slipped two fingers in unexpectedly and Crowley yelped, startled, clutching at him. 

“Oh fuck, angel!” It was going to be very difficult for him to hold back. Desperate to try, he pulled the hair tie out of the little pseudo-bun at the back of his head and tried to wrap it around the base of his cock without bringing himself off. He’d heard it was a way to keep yourself from coming.

“What are you doing?” Aziraphale said. 

“Trying to hold back.” Crowley looked at him, dazed. “I – Ow, fuck.” He didn’t know how tight you were supposed to wrap it, but it kind of hurt. Especially if, in your hurry, you snapped your cock with it by accident. 

“Crowley…” Aziraphale was trying very hard not to laugh, given the circumstances. He hadn’t withdrawn his fingers, he wasn’t sure how long he was going to be able to hold out, and he had no idea what Crowley thought he was doing or how it was going to help. “Do you…?”

“Angel, please…” Crowley helped pull him into position, guiding him. 

“I don’t want to go too fast. I’m going to hurt you…oh!” Aziraphale gasped as he abruptly found the right position and felt himself slip in, shuddering at how tight and hot Crowley felt around him. “Oh God, C-Crowley…”  
“Angel…!” Crowley was clutching at his hips and rump. 

“I’ve got to move or something…” Aziraphale wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, he needed to do it now.

“I’m good…” Crowley bit his lip as Aziraphale withdrew partially, then slid back in, starting to find his own rhythm. It took a couple of more slow thrusts before he hit the right spot, making Crowley cry out and grab at him. “Oh fuck, that’s it! D-do that again!”

“I…” Aziraphale tried to remember that it actually hadn’t hurt him when he was on the bottom, and Crowley certainly seemed to be enjoying it. And it felt – oh God, it really felt good…he hoped he wasn’t being too rough, but all at once he needed it, needed to move very, very badly.

“Angel…” Now that they’d figured out each other’s rhythm, it wasn’t so awkward anymore. Crowley twined around him, whimpering with each thrust, his almost painful erection caught between them, the friction not nearly enough to bring him off. He’d forgotten about the hair tie altogether. He needed to come very badly, but he didn’t want to, not now, because fuck, this felt so good. He almost couldn’t believe it was happening, that his ridiculous sexual fantasies were actually coming true…

“OW!” He yelped when the hair tie, which Aziraphale was trying to pull off so he could take care of him as well, broke and snapped him on the thigh. 

"Sorry…” Then Aziraphale was stroking him in time with his own movement, his breathing getting ragged as he realized he couldn’t hold back much longer, either…

“Angel!” Crowley couldn’t hold back. He nearly screamed as his climax took him, arching his back and clutching at Aziraphale, bringing him over the edge as well with the abrupt movement. 

“Crowley, oh God…” Aziraphale couldn’t move for a moment. He almost didn’t want to pull out, not right away, but they were in an awkward position and he was sure he was kind of heavy lying on top of Crowley. 

“Oh, angel…” Crowley sighed. “That was amazing…

Aziraphale finally moved enough to pull out, curling up next to him with a contented sigh of his own. Crowley curled around him, holding him tight. 

They lay snuggled together for a while without speaking, or needing to, blissfully debilitated.

"I can’t believe we just did that here,” Aziraphale finally said with a sheepish giggle, snuggling closer and nuzzling into Crowley’s shoulder. 

“Despite how it looks, I really didn’t plan it this way.” Crowley hugged him closer. 

“I’d forgive you if you had.” Aziraphale looked up at him. “And what on earth were you trying to do with the hair tie?”

“I read somewhere that if you tie something around your cock, you won’t come as fast.” Crowley looked embarrassed. 

“Oh. I wouldn’t know.” Aziraphale snuggled back close. They really needed to get cleaned up and get going, he knew, but he just needed to catch his breath first. “Crowley?”

“What, love?”

"You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Oh angel…” Crowley hugged him tighter. “Same here.”

~*~

The next afternoon, back in Kensington, Freddie and Tianna had come over to help them put up what decorations they’d brought back, as well as bringing over a few of their own. They still hadn’t gotten a tree, though. Aziraphale was baking them all Christmas cookies from a recipe he’d found online. He was starting to feel like maybe – just maybe – this Christmas was going to turn out like the one he’d been dreaming of…

As he was taking the first batch out of the oven to check them, there was a polite knock on the door. Crowley, thinking it was Holly and Beez, went to open it, only to be surprised by…

“Mom?! Dad?! I thought you weren’t getting back until after Christmas! Oh my God, this is – oh my God!” He hugged both of them at once, overjoyed. “Oh my God, this is great!”

“No way!” Tianna ran over to join the group hug, along with Freddie. Aziraphale, meanwhile, set the cookie sheet on the stove top, suddenly feeling very alone and like he might be about to cry. _Now he’ll go home with them, and they’re not going to want me along. Maybe if I’m lucky, he’ll let me stay here and watch his place while he’s away with his family…_

“Angel!” Crowley startled him into dropping the spatula he’d just picked up. “Come here! I didn’t think you’d get to meet my parents until after Christmas!”

“Zira?” David looked around with a smile as poor Aziraphale hesitantly came around the support pillar dividing the kitchen from the front room. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“Crowley’s told us all about you,” Anna added. She was just as stunning in real life as on TV, with the same wavy red hair as Crowley, although her eyes were green, not amber. David, his father, had dark-brown hair and eyes, with the same tall, gangly frame and gentle demeanor. 

“He…he has?” Aziraphale was trying to act at least somewhat calm, but he was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. He hadn’t been prepared for this at all. It wasn’t that they were famous so much as they were his boyfriend’s parents, who he knew his boyfriend was very close to – and he was sure that they were going to hate him and Crowley would of course choose his family, because who wouldn’t, and….

“I’ve only been telling him for six months to go ahead and ask you out,” Anna said with a gentle laugh. In real life, she had an American accent very similar to Tianna’s. 

“Mom…” Crowley said, blushing. 

“Well, I have. He’s so crazy about you.” She winked at Aziraphale as she spoke. 

“He knows that already,” Crowley said with a laugh, taking Aziraphale by the hand. “But yeah, Mom, Dad – this is Aziraphale, my boyfriend.”

Aziraphale stayed very quiet as the other laughed and talked, so frozen with panic that he wasn’t really hearing any of the conversation. He finally remembered the oven and hurried to turn it off, forgetting that he was supposed to be checking if that batch of cookies was even done. 

“Zira, darling?” Freddie said. 

Aziraphale took a step back and bumped into the refrigerator. All at once there didn’t seem to be enough air in the room. He could feel the dizziness creeping in, the disorientating terror, the shaking and the pounding heart…

“Angel? You okay?” Crowley looked at him. 

Aziraphale nodded, obviously lying. “I’ll be r-right b-back…” he managed to get out before bolting down the hall to the bedroom. 

“Angel?” Crowley looked after him. “Oh man. My poor baby…” He knew not to hurry right after poor Aziraphale, as badly as he wanted to. The last thing he needed in the throes of a panic attack was somebody hovering over him trying to calm him down. It only made it spiral completely out of control. 

“Is he okay?” Anna said, looking worried.

Crowley hesitated, then pulled them into the hall. “Don’t let on that I told you, but Zira has really bad panic attacks,” he said. “Plus, he’s always scared witless that he’s going to do something wrong and make everyone mad at him and they won’t want him around anymore.”

“Oh, the poor thing,” Anna said. 

“His father is that preacher, right? The one who wrote that horrible book about raising “Godly” children?” David rolled his eyes and did the finger quotes as he spoke – exactly the way Crowley did every time he talked about Aziraphale’s infamous father. The controversial (to say the least) book strongly advocated “strict, regular corporeal punishment” – or, as Anna had more accurately put it, “beating them senseless for no fucking reason!”

“That’s the one,” Tianna said darkly, joining them. “Fuck all only knows what he probably did to Zira. He doesn’t really talk about it, but he said his older brothers beat on him all the time.” In all likelihood, it wasn’t normal sibling rivalry, either. 

“And he’s so sweet in spite of it all,” Anna said. “That’s all Crowley here ever talks about. How sweet he is and how much he loves him.” She looked at her husband. “He really must be an angel if he came out of it like that.”

“Well, he is,” Crowley said. “And wait. What book?”

“It just came out a couple of weeks ago. You didn’t hear?” Anna said. 

“And shouldn’t you go see if he’s okay?” David said.

Crowley shook his head. “Not right away. He needs a few minutes. He can usually get himself out of them, but not if someone’s freaking out over him asking him if he’s all right a million times over.” That much was understandable, actually. “And what book? Zira didn’t tell me anything about it. He probably doesn’t know.”

“I can’t remember what he called it. Something about arrows,” David said. “But it’s basically about beating your kids and wife senseless in the name of the Lord.”

“Fuck…” Crowley shook his head. “I’m going to go see if he’s okay.”

~*~

Aziraphale, meanwhile, was huddled on the bed, shaking, trying to force himself to breathe the way Maddy had taught him – in through the nose, six counts, then out through the mouth, same thing. Breathe and focus. Six things you can see, six things you can feel. Breathe and focus. 

It actually helped. At least he could breathe again.

He was grateful that Crowley at least understood and gave him space when this happened, rather than shaking him and yelling at him to snap out of it and/or smacking him across the face the way Gabriel had. That only worked in the movies. It made him feel not quite so – defective. _Although face it,_ he thought miserably, _I am defective. I’m really not worth the trouble I cause him…_

Crowley poked his head in the bedroom. “You okay, angel?”

Aziraphale nodded, looking at him, utterly miserable. “I just – I’m sorry, Crowley, I’m so sorry…” He was still pale and shivering, but the worst of the attack seemed to be over, fading away to be replaced by burning shame and exhaustion. “I’m sorry. I – just wasn’t…” He huddled into the throw he’d wound around himself, trying to stifle a sob. 

“Look at everything that’s happened the last few days,” Crowley said. “Just because it’s all good doesn’t mean it’s not a lot all at once.” He sat down with Aziraphale and hugged him tight. “I totally get it, sweetheart. Don’t apologize.” 

Aziraphale looked down with a sniffle. “Sometimes I can’t believe anyone actually likes me.”

Crowley hugged him tight. “I can’t believe anyone was cruel enough to do what they obviously did to you to make you think that nobody could actually like you.” He held Aziraphale tight for a moment, then pushed him away just enough to look into his big sad blue eyes. “You’re so sweet. I don’t see how anyone wouldn’t like you. Heck, how they wouldn’t love you. Because I absolutely adore you.”

“You’re going to get tired of telling me that all the time,” Aziraphale said, looking down. _You’re going to get so tired of me. I’m tired of me and I have to be me. You’re lucky. You can just walk away. I have to live with the only person I actually hate. Myself…_ He closed his eyes, feeling a tear slide down his cheek. 

“What? That I love you? Never. You’d better get used to hearing it about a thousand times a day, angel. At least.” Crowley kissed the tear away. “Because I love you that much. My angel with a broken wing.” 

Aziraphale looked up. “B-broken wing?”

“Someone hurt you. And now you have to learn how to fly all over again.” Crowley didn’t tell him he’d just used that metaphor in a song he was writing – about Aziraphale, of course. 

“I-I wish I really was what you think I am…” Aziraphale sniffled. “I m-might be worth loving if I w-was…”

“Angel…” Crowley held him. He honestly didn’t know how he was going to convince Aziraphale that he was worthy of being loved, but he didn’t intend to give up until he did. “You already are. Shh, don’t cry. It’s all right. My poor sweet angel.” 

Aziraphale hid his face against Crowley’s shoulder as a soft, broken sob got away from him. Crowley stroked his hair, holding him while he cried. 

“I’m sorry…” Aziraphale sniffled after a few minutes, looking up. “I d-don’t know what’s wrong with me.” _Other than the fact that I’m a worthless idiot, that is..._

“You were hurt. And you didn’t know how badly because it was all you knew,” Crowley said. “So you didn’t feel it. But now you’re feeling it, because you’re seeing what you should have had.” 

Aziraphale shivered. “I – I just – I never really thought it was like this for real. Like – your parents are so nice. They’re like the ones on TV. They - mine aren’t like that.” He looked down. “They even s-said they loved you…” His voice was breaking apart again.

“Didn’t yours…?” 

“N-no…” Poor Aziraphale was crying harder despite himself. 

“Oh baby, no.” Crowley hugged him tight. “My poor baby.”

Aziraphale managed to get some control of himself after a couple of minutes. “I d-don’t deserve you, Crowley. You – put up with so much because of me. I mean, I – I know how damaged I am. I don’t know how to talk to anyone, I’m scared of everything, I’m always afraid I’m going to screw up and everyone’s going to hate me, but I don’t know what to do so I don’t screw up because I don’t know how to act like a normal person. But you – y-you make me feel like none of that matters. L-Like I’m…safe?” He looked up, his eyes looking gray rather than blue with tears and the dim light. 

“Angel, I think everyone’s afraid of that. Myself included,” Crowley admitted. “And normal is really very overrated, if you ask me. And…” He kissed Aziraphale softly. “For someone who’s scared of everything, you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met.”

“But I’m not brave. I’m scared. I’m always scared.” Aziraphale looked down. 

“But you do things anyway. And you still have so much love in your heart even after everything they did to you. That’s brave, if you ask me.”

Aziraphale snuggled close. “If you keep saying things like that about me, I might really start to believe them someday.”

“Which is the point, silly.” Crowley kissed the top of his head. “Silly angel. I love you so much.”

“Oh, Crowley…” Aziraphale shuddered, then finally relaxed into his boyfriend’s embrace. _He knows how awful and worthless I am and loves me anyway?_ “I should have warned you how messed up I am. Given you a chance to run away.”

“For fuck’s sake…” Crowley pushed him back to look at him. “Aziraphale Zachariah Shepard, if you think you’re getting rid of me that easily, you’ve got another thing coming.” He was trying to look stern, but broke into a grin. “You’re stuck with me, angel. Better get used to it. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Aziraphale actually giggled and Crowley felt himself melting. They ended up in a long kiss. 

“Better, sweetie?” Crowley murmured when their lips parted.

Aziraphale nodded. “I love you.”

Crowley kissed the top of his head. “I love you, too. And I bet my dad already ate all those cookies you were baking.”

“I don’t know if they were done…” Aziraphale realized. It was yet another reason it had been a bad time for a panic attack.

"You think a little thing like that is going to stop him?” Crowley said. “Come on, angel, let’s go see what they’re up to.”

~*~

Anna looked around as they came back in. “Is everything okay?” 

Aziraphale nodded. Now that he was accompanied by Crowley, he seemed more at ease, albeit still quite shy and nervous. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. It’s all right,” David said with a smile. “And did you make these from scratch?” He held up one of the cookies. “They’re really good.”

Aziraphale nodded shyly. “Thanks. I got the recipe online.” His voice was very soft and slightly faltering. He gave up trying to resist the urge to hide against Crowley and pressed close, shivering slightly. 

Crowley hugged him closer and kissed the top of his head. “It’s okay, angel,” he murmured.

~*~

Crowley looked around. “Angel, what are you doing?” It was about three hours later. Aziraphale had insisted on making them dinner – cheesy garlic bread and pasta cooked in lemon juice-infused water with sauce made from cream of chicken soup, which he apologized for because it wasn’t “really” homemade. Where he’d gotten the recipe was anyone’s guess – Crowley suspected it was the back of the soup can - but it was quite good. He’d also made brownies to go with the rest of the cookies, also repeatedly apologizing because they were from a mix. The others had made it very clear that if Crowley didn’t marry him, one of them was going to. 

“The…dishes?” Aziraphale’s timidity turned the statement into a question.

"Love, we have a dishwasher, you know. As in one that isn’t you,” he added, opening it. “Here, let me give you a hand with those.”

“N-no, you go be with your parents. I’ll clean up in here,” Aziraphale said. “Do you want me to start the laundry, too?”

“Sweetheart…” Crowley turned around to take the baking dish from him – _Wait, since when do we have baking dishes? Did he order stuff again?_ – and steal a quick kiss. “You’re my boyfriend. You’re not my servant, okay?”

“Yeah, really. You have to train him to do things himself or he’ll never learn,” Anna said, looking over with a grin. 

“Mom! I’m not that bad,” Crowley protested. 

“Says the child who couldn’t figure out the difference between Downy and Tide,” Anna said. 

“At least I didn’t put dish soap in our dishwasher,” Crowley pointed out. “Although that was actually pretty cool.”

“No, not really. Not when you had to clean it up,” Anna said. 

“Hey, I was trying to be helpful,” David said with an embarrassed laugh. 

“Operative word – trying.” Anna kissed his cheek. “It’s okay. I forgave you. Eventually.” She looked at Aziraphale. “That was the first place we’d had that actually had a dishwasher. So yeah. He didn’t know. Plus I was dealing with the twins at the time along with this one, unmedicated.” She glanced affectionately at Crowley. 

“Unmedicated?” Aziraphale said, looking at Crowley, then Anna, then back at Crowley. 

“ADHD,” Crowley said, kissing his cheek. “I think I put them through hell when I was little.”

“He had it rough when he first started school,” David said. “Anna had to talk me into putting him on medication for it. But she was right. It was the best thing we could have done.” He smiled at Crowley.  
Aziraphale was trying to process the multiple facts that one, Crowley had received help when he ran into problems at school instead of being punished and two, Anna had obviously openly disagreed with her husband over it – and not only that, had prevailed. That would not have happened in his family. 

They rejoined the others and Crowley sat on the sofa, putting an arm around Aziraphale and hugging him close. Aziraphale hesitated, then snuggled against him. Just the fact that it was okay to do this in front of his boyfriend’s parents was a little strange. 

“Did you know your father just had a book published?” Anna asked him. 

“He’s been working on one for a while now. Some kind of book about raising children.” Just the thought made Aziraphale shiver. His father was, quite honestly, one of the last people who should have been – well, a father. 

“What’s his name again?” Crowley reached for the tablet, as usual charging on the coffee table. 

“Ezekiel J. Shepard. I don’t know what the J stands for,” Aziraphale admitted. 

“You don’t know your dad’s middle name?” David said. 

Aziraphale shook his head. His father had never even been “Father,” much less “Dad.” It was always “Sir.” 

“Here it is,” Crowley said, frowning. 

Aziraphale looked over his arm at the tablet and cringed. “He didn’t.” The book was titled _A Quiverfull Of Arrows: Marriage And Childrearing In The Way Of The Lord_.

“I wouldn’t want to run into him in a dark alley,” Tianna said. Aziraphale’s father was gray-haired and clean-shaven, with glowering, brutal features. He looked more like a fighter – or a murderer – than a professor of theology and minister. His mother, also pictured on the cover, was tall and thin, with an artificial smile that failed to reach her eyes in a very disconcerting manner. 

Neither of them looked even remotely like they could have produced a child who looked like Aziraphale. 

“Never mind that we were all basically raised by nannies. At least my sisters and I were,” Aziraphale said. 

“I thought he only had boys,” Anna said. 

“My sisters are all younger,” Aziraphale said. “And only the straight boys count. I have five older brothers – Ezekiel the Second, Sandalphon, Abraham, Jeremiah and Jedidiah. Then there’s me and my sisters Rebekah and Keziah. I think there may be a few others now, though, since I – left. Hey, I just remembered! I have a picture of Nanny Rose if anyone wants to see?”

“Of course we do, dear!” Freddie said as the others nodded. They were all curious about the woman who had apparently raised him for the first ten years of his life. 

Aziraphale hurried to the bedroom, returning a moment later. “I had to hide it. My father wouldn’t have wanted me to have it.” It was an obvious mirror selfie taken by a very young and adorable Aziraphale himself. He couldn’t have been more than about five or six in it, all cherubic white-blonde curls and big blue eyes. But that wasn’t what caught everyone’s attention.

“She was – certainly young, dear,” Freddie said. Rose couldn’t have been older than about eighteen, pretty and a little plump, with pale blonde curls and big blue eyes. 

Just like Aziraphale’s.


	9. Lazing on a Thursday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley put bookcases together. That's basically it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter, because I'm having trouble seguing into any kind of bedroom scene. 
> 
> And the line from "City Slickers" is "Hey, look! I made a cow!"

“How long was she your nanny?” Anna said. 

“Until I was ten. My father hired someone else. I wish he hadn’t.” Aziraphale looked sad. “She even went with my mother to the midwife’s when she had my sisters. My mother didn’t have an awful lot to do with us either. She liked my brothers more.” His tone was sad, but matter of fact rather than whining. Lost in his thoughts, he missed the glances that the others exchanged. 

“You don’t happen to know her last name, do you dear?” Freddie said after a moment.

“Pratchett. She had the same last name as one of her favorite writers. She had me reading his books when I was little, even though they really weren’t kids’ books. It was on the sly. I wasn’t supposed to be reading anything except the Bible, but she snuck in books for me all the time.” Aziraphale looked both wistful and a little bit smug. 

Crowley glanced over at the random piles of books awaiting the bookcases he’d ordered. He remembered seeing all the Terry Pratchett books amid them. He looked back at Aziraphale. “Have you ever thought about trying to track her down?”

“I’m sure she doesn’t even remember me,” Aziraphale said with a sigh. 

~*~

Aziraphale looked around as Crowley got off the phone. “Is everything okay?” It was early the following afternoon. Crowley, much to Aziraphale’s surprise, had stayed in Kensington instead of leaving with his parents. When he’d asked, Crowley had pointed out that they needed some time to relax, they had to pick up Jada from his grandmother’s house and besides, they’d see them for Christmas at Freddie and Tianna’s the following week. 

“Very much so.” Crowley kissed his angel’s pert nose. “Lil just called to see if at least one of us was home. We got a bunch of packages in and she was going to ask Ligur to bring them up in a bit. I think two of them are the bookcases.” Assembling them wasn’t going to be fun, but at least he had someone here to help him this time. He also suspected Aziraphale would be better than he was at figuring out the directions. “Some of them are for Christmas and I think she said a few are yours.” He hoped his angel hadn’t gone overboard buying him things in a sweet but unneeded expression of thanks. 

~*~

Half an hour later, Crowley was sitting on the sofa with a pile of Amazon Prime boxes on the floor and coffeetable, separating them into his and Aziraphale’s. The two large flat boxes with the bookcases were leaning against the wall nearby. 

“Who were the guys who brought them up?” Aziraphale said. As usual, he’d been nervous – he’d been caught off guard doing dishes and hadn’t been able to go through with his initial plan of hiding out in the bedroom, but they seemed nice. 

“Hastur and Ligur. Hastur is the head of maintenance and Ligur is his assistant. Also his boyfriend, I think,” Crowley said. “Listen, everyone here is really cool. Don’t be afraid to call anyone if I’m not here and there’s a problem. And this one’s yours, too, sweetheart.”

Aziraphale looked at the box. “Oh good. I was hoping these would come in soon.”

“What are they?” Crowley said, looking around as Aziraphale opened it. 

“These.” Aziraphale held up the larger of two “Celestial Blue” frying pans. 

“Did you order _more_ kitchen stuff?” As he’d suspected, those clear blue baking dishes were another of Aziraphale’s purchases. 

Aziraphale cringed, looking ashamed. “I…”

“Sweetheart…” Crowley leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Next time tell me what you want so I can spoil you, okay? Although it seems like I should be spoiling you with something that isn’t pots and pans.” One of the other packages, as it turned out, contained two matching Celestial Blue cooking pots and a set of matching nylon cooking utensils, along with matching measuring spoons and cups. “Wait. Did I not have any of this stuff?”

“You have exactly one pot, one frying pan, a cookie sheet and two mixing bowls. I’m surprised you even had dishes and silverware. Really, Crowley, even straight guys have it together in the kitchen more than you,” Aziraphale said. 

“Not really.” Crowley smiled at Aziraphale’s affectionate, shyly scolding tone. His angel was getting brave enough to tease him a little. It was adorable. “You should see Roger Taylor’s place. Or not. I think you’d run out screaming. I know I almost did. I thought takeaway containers evolving into new and malevolent life forms only happened in bad horror movies.” Crowley was already figuring out which cabinet to put hooks on so they could hang the measuring spoons and cups up. His angel would probably appreciate having them handy. “And baby, as much as everyone appreciates you cooking, especially me, I do hope you know that you don’t have to. I know that cockwomble Gabriel expected it, but I certainly don’t.”

Aziraphale looked at him shyly. “I actually like to. I’m trying to learn to be a better cook. I just – I love you. I want to make you happy.” He set the pan on the coffee table. 

“You make me happy just being here.” Crowley hugged him tight. “Gah. Every time I think I couldn’t love you more, I find out I’m wrong.” He kissed the tip of Aziraphale’s nose, then drew back just enough to gaze into his eyes for a moment before kissing him again. 

“Just stay close for awhile, okay?” he murmured when their lips parted. 

Aziraphale happily snuggled against him, curling close. He’d never heard of touch starvation, but he’d realized over the last few days that he couldn’t get enough of being in Crowley’s arms. It wasn’t even sexual, although he enjoyed that part rather more than he’d been led to believe he should. It was just being nestled against him, feeling Crowley’s arms around him, the warmth of his body and scent of his skin. Plus the fact that Crowley didn’t seem to mind holding him. 

Crowley, for his part, had decided that happy angel snuggles were better than trying to put bookcases together – although he supposed they had to do that sometime. Preferably after he’d spent the next few hours snuggling Aziraphale. He was so warm and soft and smelled so sweet. It was just like he’d always imagined it would be.

Pretty much perfect.

~*~

“Okay, you hold the box and I’ll just pull this out…” Crowley yelped as his hands slipped off the plastic bag and he lost his balance, landing on his rear end with a thump that Aziraphale was sure startled their downstairs neighbors. “Ow.”

“Are you all right?” They didn’t even have the first bookcase unboxed and things were already not going well. 

“I think so.” Crowley was sure that was going to leave a mark. “Maybe I should try it while I’m down here?” He tugged on the plastic-encased shelving. “Did you ever see than movie _City Slickers_? Because I feel like Billy Crystal’s character here helping the cow have the baby.”

Aziraphale started to say he’d never seen it, but the contents of the box abruptly pulled free, sending him stumbling back to land in an undignified heap on the floor while Crowley ended up on his back with the bookcase-to-be on top of him.

“Hey, look. I made a bookcase!” he said. 

Aziraphale didn’t get the reference. 

“Okay, you. We have totally got to watch that movie.” Crowley sat up to open the packaging and find the instructions. 

Aziraphale was actually a little apprehensive. The tree had been one thing, but assembling DIY furniture was something else again. He knew from experience that it wasn’t going to go smoothly. And his experience with his father and later Gabriel was that it was never a good thing for him if things didn’t go smoothly. Somehow it always became his fault. And it being his fault meant he had to answer for it, which had always ended with him trying to hide yet another black eye and/or hoping his nose wasn’t actually broken. Not that he thought Crowley would take anything out on him. He really wasn’t like that. 

“I have a feeling these instructions actually made sense before they translated them,” Crowley said after a moment, looking from the sheet to the parts and back again. “Too bad I can’t read kanji. Or Swedish. And it would be super helpful if they’d actually like, put the numbers and letters on these things.” His expression was bewildered rather than angry. 

“I’m sorry.” Aziraphale looked down. “If it’s too much trouble…”

“Shush, angel.” Crowley pulled him over for a quick kiss. “I love a challenge, okay?” He looked back at the instructions. “Hmmm. Come on, Crowley, you can do this simple thing…”

Aziraphale sat back against the back of the sofa, watching as Crowley read over the sheet, glancing from time to time at the pile of boards that would presumably become a bookcase at some point. He frowned, looked back and forth again, then looked at the back of the sheet, twirling a long red corkscrew through his fingers as he did. 

“Okay…” he concluded after a few minutes. “The bookcase itself is easy enough. I think. Maybe. I just need to figure out which screws are which.”

“Maybe I can?” Aziraphale said timidly. 

“I’ll probably be better off with you telling me what to do, angel.” Crowley handed him the instructions while he opened the bag and took everything out. “I should have warned you that I pretty much put the disaster in disaster gay.” 

“Didn’t you put the other one together?” Aziraphale glanced over at the identical seven-shelf bookcase. 

“I tried to. I ended up calling my mom pretty much in tears begging her to come help me with it,” Crowley admitted. 

“Not your dad?”

“That’s the whole problem. I take after him.” Crowley looked sheepish. “Not very good at this whole “being a responsible, functional adult” thing.” He hugged one leg as he spoke, leaning his chin on his knee and looking at Aziraphale. “I only moved in here about six months ago. That’s why there’s still so much stuff in my room at home. Well, my other home. You know what I mean.” 

Aziraphale had noticed the lack of furniture, but had written it off as his boyfriend being a minimalist. “I thought you’d lived here – well, longer.”

“Nah. I was still living with my parents when we met. Well, I’d moved out but moved back in. I got dumped. Hard.” He sighed. “That was about three, four months before you and I met.” He stretched out across the floor, rolling over on his back with his head in Aziraphale’s lap. “Another of my not-finest moments. I turned up on my parents’ doorstep at midnight, in the rain, soaking wet and crying my eyes out. My mom swears I’m like a lost puppy.” He sat up. “Everyone thinks I’m either a total asshole or a Satanist or some kind of spoiled, drug-addicted drunken idiot. I’m not, though – well, okay, I am kind of an idiot. Sometimes.”

Aziraphale squeezed his hand. “You’re not an idiot. Never mind the rest of it, which you’re not either.” He hadn’t realized when they met that Crowley had a reputation as a snarky, sarcastic put-down artist who liked to start (verbal) fights with just about anyone. He’d very quickly realized that it was also greatly exaggerated, based mostly on his quite publicly telling Maddy Baker’s obnoxious movie director ex-boyfriend to “get fucking bent, you bloody bloviating cockwomble!” 

Crowley kissed him. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that as much as I try to be cool and all – I’m really not. I’m kind of a hot mess.”

“Emphasis on hot,” Aziraphale said, leaning over to kiss him back. “And for what it’s worth, I think you’re cool. And I’m not going to dump you for anyone.” He looked down, then back up. “You’re so patient with me. You didn’t give up on me when I didn’t know how to talk to you.” He looked down again, then back up through his eyelashes. “I was totally in love with you the moment you walked in. You were so gorgeous. I didn’t even think you’d notice me. I couldn’t believe it when you – actually wanted to talk to me.”

“Oh my God, angel. You were the most adorable thing I’d ever seen. I couldn’t believe someone like you even existed. And you were so sweet and shy and sad. I wanted to hold you and tell you everything was going to be all right, that I’d take care of you. But I figured you probably weren’t gay, and if you were, you wouldn’t want me.” Crowley took his hands. “I feel like we really are an angel and a demon sometimes. I mean, you’re everything I’m not.”

“Crowley, stop. You’re so nice,” Aziraphale said. 

“Shut it, angel. I’m a demon. I’m not nice!” Crowley playfully pushed Aziraphale back against the sofa and kissed him. “Nice is a four-letter word.”

Aziraphale kissed his boyfriend’s nose. “You weren’t really named after Alistair Crowley, were you?” It was just one of the many rumors he’d heard. 

“As much as teenage me liked to fancy I was, nope, I wasn’t.” Crowley leaned back against the sofa. “It’s actually my middle name. My first name is Anthony. I was named after my Grandpa Gordon and the town in Louisiana my mom’s parents are from. Since my grandparents lived with us when I was little, I was always called by my middle name. I’m actually kind of glad someone else in the family was already named after her dad. I mean, I love both my grandfathers – don’t get me wrong – but I don’t think I would have wanted to be named Seymour.”

“Try Aziraphale. You would have thought my parents would have named me something they knew how to pronounce.”

“Are you serious?” Crowley looked at him. 

Aziraphale nodded. “They called me Az-Raphael, at least when my father wasn’t calling me stupid. At least Nanny Rose knew how to pronounce it, or I would have really been screwed.”

Crowley started to say _Of course she did, she’s your mom. She’s the one who named you_ , but caught himself. “I don’t like your father. He sounds like a perfectly awful person.”

“He – actually is.” Aziraphale surprised himself by saying it. “Only straight cisgender men count in his world. Women are only there to service them and put out babies. And as for us – well, we’re not even human.” 

“Aren’t you afraid he’ll come after you?”

“I used to be, when I first ran away. But not anymore. For one thing, I’m twenty-three now. He can’t force me to come back. And it’s serving his purpose better to cast me as the prodigal son – you know, the one who ran off but is going to come crawling back to the fold begging to be taken back in. Except it’s not going to happen.” He looked up with a sly smile and the beginnings of an expression that Crowley had never seen – one that thrilled him to the core. _You really are just enough of a bastard, aren’t you, my darling angel?_

“You better believe it’s not. You have your own family now.” He leaned over to kiss Aziraphale softly. “And if he even tries to take you back, he’s going to have to deal with me. Because you’re _my_ angel now, and nobody gets away with hurting my angel.” His eyes were so gentle and protective and so fierce all at once that Aziraphale shivered. 

Crowley started to push him back across the floor to kiss him again, but Aziraphale cringed and yelped. “Ow!”

“Angel?” Crowley sat back. “You okay?”

“Ow…” Aziraphale pulled the claw hammer out from under his rear end. “I was wondering what I did with that.” 

“I didn’t know we had one of those,” Crowley said. 

“It was in one of the drawers. Despite appearances, I didn’t pull it out of my arse,” Aziraphale said with a wry smile. 

~*~

Within ten minutes, it became very obvious that things were not going to go smoothly. Crowley, for all his obvious intelligence, was apparently unable to translate the instructions he was reading into what he needed to do with the parts he’d spread out on the floor. He kept getting confused and ahead of himself, then trying to backtrack and making things worse, all the while thoroughly confusing poor Aziraphale. 

“I give up. I swear something’s wrong with me, angel.” Crowley finally sank back down on the floor, leaning back against the sofa and putting his hands over his face. “That’s the reason I can’t cook, either. It’s like my brain just shuts off when it sees a list of instructions. I mean, I can read them and all, but trying to take that and look at a pile of stuff and make a bookcase out of it – well, I thought I could, at any rate. I used to be able to.” 

“Maybe it’s your ADHD?” Aziraphale sat down with him. “Are you still taking anything for it?” Despite his ingrained timidity, he wasn’t afraid of Crowley lashing out at him. 

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s helping anymore.” He sighed. “It’s just frustrating, you know? I really didn’t think I was this much of a dumbass.”

“Maybe you need something different,” Aziraphale said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “And you’re not a dumbass. Not at all. Do you want me to put them together?”

“Actually, if you tell me what to do, I probably can,” Crowley said, smiling a bit wanly at him. “Let’s give it a shot, anyway.”

With Aziraphale translating the instructions, it went much more smoothly. Ten minutes later, they had a finished bookcase. 

“There we are!” Crowley hammered in the last nail with a flourish and leaned over to give Aziraphale a deliberately loud, smacking kiss on the mouth. “We make a pretty good team, angel. Even if I do say so myself.”

“Thanks for not yelling at me when it wasn’t going well,” Aziraphale said shyly. “My father and Gabriel would have.”

“Like it’s your fault I can’t follow directions.” Crowley kissed his angel’s nose. “Tell you what. You put that one where you want it and I’ll start unpacking this one. Sound good?”

“I thought we were putting them either side of the seven-high one?”

“If that’s what you want. This is your place too, you know.” Crowley stood the second box on end and leaned on it, looking thoughtful. “I have no idea what other stuff we need in here. What do you think?”

“Like furniture?” Aziraphale looked around. “I thought you were just a minimalist.”

“Not really. More like clueless-ist.”

Aziraphale positioned the bookcase next to the taller one and came back over. “You might want to think about a dining room table at some point.” He suspected the alcove to the right of the door was in fact supposed to serve as the front room, judging from the built-in shelving and storage, and the spacious area by the big windows was supposed to be the dining area. But he liked the way Crowley had it better. Besides, with the open floor plan, it didn’t really matter. “It would be nice to have everyone over for dinner and not end up sitting on the floor.” 

“Good point.” Crowley looked around. “We’ll pick one out after Christmas, okay?”

“Okay.” Aziraphale came back over to help with the second bookcase. 

Half an hour later, they were admiring the bookcases placed either side of the taller one. Crowley had been right; it really did look nice. He had an eye for this, Aziraphale realized. 

“You know, if we’re going to turn that into a dining room, we should paint the wall around those cabinets something other than white,” Crowley said after a moment, going over to look. 

“Something not too dark, though,” Aziraphale said, following. “Maybe light blue?”

Crowley smiled. “You like blue, don’t you, angel?” He wasn’t sure about blue walls with those stark white built-in cabinets, though. 

“Yeah.” Aziraphale looked sheepish. “If you don’t want blue…”

“Or…” Crowley considered it. “We could paint the walls like a cream color or something that isn’t so – industrial - and paint the cabinets some shade of blue.” Everything was painted white, the way it had been when he moved in. 

“That could work,” Aziraphale agreed. 

“You’ll probably still have to tell me what to do, though.” Crowley was starting to not trust himself with instructions. “I think I kind of like when you do that.” He gave Aziraphale a playful look.

“Really?” Aziraphale said. “In that case, how about taking me to the bedroom later and quite thoroughly ravishing me?”

“I was planning on doing that anyway.” Crowley took him in his arms and kissed him. “You’re so cute, angel. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Being adored to this extreme was a new experience for Aziraphale.


	10. Pots, Pans and Angelic Temptations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale orders groceries, tries making fudge and tries his hand at a little roleplaying. One goes better than the other. 
> 
> And yes, I'm still writing a Christmas story in May. Let's just say I'm planning ahead for this coming Christmas.

“Wow…” Crowley was peering into the refrigerator in something approaching awe. “When did all this happen?” The refrigerator had been mostly empty when he left, but it was now properly and fully stocked with the basics, along with vegetables in the crisper. There were also a couple of luscious looking steaks awaiting the cooker.

“While you were out with Tianna,” Aziraphale replied, looking around from the counter. His grocery order had arrived while Crowley and Tianna were doing some last-minute Christmas shopping. He’d opted out of the shopping trip in order to be – _home,_ he realized – when Waitrose delivered. He’d never even thought of his old flat as “home,” he realized, much less Gabriel’s flat or his childhood home. He’d never felt like anyone actually wanted him around, much less like he actually belonged anywhere. Until now.

“Babe, you do know I don’t expect you to do all this?” Crowley looked around. “And what are you doing, love?”

“Freezing cutlets. I hope you don’t mind thighs. They’re deboned.” He was wrapping individual chicken cutlets in wax paper and putting them in a freezer bag. 

Crowley decided against making any comments about being wrapped in Aziraphale’s own deliciously plump thighs and opened the freezer to find neatly packaged hamburgers freezing, along with salmon and what looked like coconut-crusted fish of some sort. There were also a couple of bags of frozen chips and popcorn shrimp, something that looked like pork chops, fish fingers and a couple of cartons of ice cream along with – ice cube trays? He smiled. A certain adorable angel was apparently unaware that the funny thing on the door of the fridge was an ice maker. The formerly empty cabinets now held soup cans, pasta, rice, potatoes and onions, flour, sugar, a jar of yeast, a few jars of spaghetti sauce and an assortment of spices. _Is he my boyfriend or my wife?_

“Sweetheart, isn’t this an awful lot of trouble?” He looked around. “I feel like I’m putting you out.”

“No. And it gets too expensive eating takeaway all the time.” Aziraphale, always cautious, had gone to carefully wash his hands after handling the chicken, using a paper towel to hold the bag when he sealed it and put it in the freezer. He fetched a disinfectant wipe to carefully wipe down the counter before washing it with a sponge, drying it and disinfecting it again, then washing out the sponge and putting it in the microwave to disinfect it.

Crowley watched the whole operation, fascinated and somewhat awed. “You do know I have money, don’t you, sweetheart? I mean, if that’s the reason you’re doing all this…” He peeked in the refrigerator again. 

“Well, yeah, but…” Aziraphale stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “I actually really like cooking. Well, I like cooking for you. I didn’t so much for Gabriel. But you actually appreciate it.” He wiped his hands on a tartan dish towel that hadn’t been attached to the cabinet handle when Crowley left. 

“You have no idea how much I appreciate it, love,” Crowley said, putting his arms around his angel’s waist to pull him closer. “How on earth could he have let you go? What’s the deal with him, anyway?”

“What do you mean?” Aziraphale leaned his head on Crowley’s shoulder. 

“I don’t get him. First he took advantage of you, then he dumped you for Vikki, then he banged that chick at the wedding last week – I just don’t get what his game is. Does he think he’s gay, bi, straight – what?”

“He just uses people.” Aziraphale didn’t look up. “I was – convenient. I was broke, I was working in a coffee shop, but…” He shivered. “I didn’t have anywhere to go. I’d just run away, I was – well, I was homeless – I didn’t have anything and that job didn’t even begin to pay well enough for me to make rent anywhere. And – I didn’t know any better. I mean, I – I didn’t think it was really like it is in books or on TV. I didn’t think it was like – this.”

“What’s this?” Crowley hugged him tighter. 

“This. Us. This is like on TV or something.”

“The rich boy who loses his heart to the barista? Former barista?” Crowley kissed the top of his angel’s head, amused. 

“No.” Aziraphale finally looked up. “The way you treat me. You’re actually nice to me. You make me feel – loved.” 

Crowley stared at him for a moment, eyes wide. “Angel, I – I just – that’s the absolute least you should ever expect from a relationship. I just…” Unable to get his thoughts together, he kissed Aziraphale softly on the mouth, letting it turn into a gentle, lingering kiss.

“I can’t believe what they did to you,” he said when their lips finally parted. “And you’re still the sweetest, most loving thing on the planet.”

“Because I swore that I would never, ever be like my father.” Aziraphale surprised himself by actually saying the thing he’d thought for so long. “Or my brothers. I want to be better than that. And it’s like in _A Wrinkle In Time,_ when the only thing Meg has that IT doesn’t is love. That’s the only thing I ever had that they didn’t. Love.”

“But that’s everything,” Crowley said. “Rose gave you that book too, didn’t she?” 

Aziraphale nodded. “My father threw out most of the books she gave me, but I hid that one. I still have it over there.” He looked over at the bookcases. 

“Oh, angel…” Crowley kissed him again, thinking _We have to find her, somehow._ After the holidays were over, he needed to talk to Jim. 

“I just hope he isn’t treating Vikki the way he did me,” Aziraphale said when their lips parted. “Gabriel, I mean. I know you don’t like her, but she really isn’t a bad person. She’s just – not that bright. And she didn’t know he was my ex. And I didn’t realize who her boyfriend was when she started, or I would have warned her. I thought he’d come over with her, since they’re both American.”

“Warned her about what?” Crowley looked at him, fearing the answer was what he suspected. 

“About what kind of person he is.” That was and wasn’t a lie. There was more to it than that, of course. As he knew only too well. Gabriel was an expert at hitting you where the bruises wouldn’t show. 

“What do you…” Crowley started, but Aziraphale shushed him with a kiss. 

“We won’t have deal with them for Christmas, anyway.” Aziraphale was actually a little – well, a lot – nervous. They were going to be spending Christmas Eve through Boxing Day at Tianna and Freddie’s – what he’d originally thought Crowley was going back to the States for. 

“Opal is going to be so surprised,” Crowley said, going with the abrupt change of subject. “Wait until you see the dollhouse my grandad made her out of a couple of bookcases. You can’t even tell they were bookcases.”

“Is she Freddie’s daughter?” He didn’t think so; Tianna’s redhaired lookalike daughter was nine, which would have made her three when her mother and Freddie met. 

“No.” Crowley shook his head. “Her father was Tianna’s boyfriend back in – well, in the States, high school. From about the time they were both sixteen. He was hit and killed by a drunk driver really early on the morning of St. Patrick’s Day. He was just going to work. Tianna was devastated. She found out about a month and a half later that she was pregnant. By then, Harry’s father had taken a job elsewhere and left town, and his mother had gone home to her mother with Harry’s sister. It ended their marriage, from what my mom said. We lost track of them and I don’t think they know to this day that they have a granddaughter. That was why she was so anxious to come over here. She wanted to get away from it, too. Not from her parents. They adore Opal. Just – everything else.”

“I’m glad I asked before I said something really dumb.” Aziraphale looked embarrassed and rather chastised.

“She would have totally forgiven you. I know she has a scary reputation, but she’s really nice. Just really outspoken and a little bit feral. And she really likes you.” 

“I need to make cookies to bring over. And maybe a couple of pies. I’d make a plum pudding but I don’t know if I have time and I forgot to get brandy for the hard sauce and…” Aziraphale looked around, abruptly switching into full Angelic Panic Mode, which was not the same thing as a panic attack. Crowley had witnessed it many times at the office, usually when Aziraphale was trying to herd the various Queenies into the conference room, deal with someone on the phone, get Ned out the door to a meeting, explain to Vikki for the thousandth time that you had to dial 9 to get an outside number on both the fax AND the phone and get back to the kettle in the breakroom because he was making yet another cup of tea… 

He reminded Crowley of the White Rabbit sometimes. It was adorable. 

“Cookies are more than enough, sweetie. And I’ll help you with them.” Crowley kissed his nose. “And we don’t have to do those today. We’ll probably end up eating them all first if we do. And angel? Did you see this?”

“See what?” Aziraphale said. 

Crowley took a glass out of the cabinet and filled it from the ice maker. 

“I thought that was – okay, I didn’t know what that was.” Aziraphale looked embarrassed. “I’m such an idiot. I wondered why you didn’t have ice trays.”

“You’re not an idiot. But I swear you’re stuck in the wrong century sometimes. Which is one of the many things I love about you.” Crowley kissed his nose. 

~*~

Later that afternoon, Crowley was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the bedroom, trying to find the scissors amid a chaotic mass of wrapping paper, ribbon and bows. He finally located them under his leg, only to realize that the tape was nowhere to be found. 

Like the man said, every Christmas it was the same thing over and over again. 

That was when the smoke alarm abruptly shrilled, accompanied by a dismayed squeak from Aziraphale. 

“Angel?!” He hurried into the front room to see poor Aziraphale with a smoking pan in one hand, frantically trying to wave smoke away from the wailing detector with the book he’d been cooking from with the other. 

“I’ve got it, love.” Crowley took the book and fanned smoke away. “Shush, you.”

“I’m sorry…” Aziraphale looked at the pan in stricken dismay, then at Crowley, his eyes starting to fill with tears. His attempt at improvising a double boiler hadn’t worked and the mixture of melted chocolate, milk and sugar had scorched badly despite him stirring it. He was pretty sure he’d just ruined the pan. “I d-didn’t mean to…”

“Stuff happens,” Crowley said gently, taking the still-smoking pan and putting in the sink to run water in it. It hissed and sizzled, sending up a cloud of steam. “I’m just glad it was this old thing and not one of your good pans, sweetie.”

“I…I didn’t…I just wanted to do something nice…” Aziraphale sniffled. 

“Angel…” Crowley wondered if it was bad that he couldn’t help thinking how utterly adorable Aziraphale was even when he was this upset. “It’s no big deal. I’ve done worse.” He leaned over to kiss his angel’s nose. “Much worse.”

Aziraphale looked down, sniffling dismally. Crowley was torn between feeling bad at how upset his angel was and melting inside because he was so adorable despite being as upset as he was. It was like a scene out of some screwball romantic comedy. _Earth Angel,_ the madcap adventures of a scatterbrained musician and his husband, an adorable angel sent incognito to Earth in order to earn his wings. 

“Poor baby,” He pulled Aziraphale close. “What were you trying to make?”

“That…” Aziraphale pointed at the book, then hid his face against Crowley’s shoulder with a soft sob. He’d been determined to bring something very complicated, homemade and special to Freddie and Tianna’s as a thank you for putting up with him. And it had of course gone completely wrong, because he was incapable of getting anything right…

Crowley’s eyes widened at the recipe – _Three-Layer Country Club Fudge._ “I don’t know, angel. This looks – complicated.”

“It’s cooking, not rocket science. I should be able to do this simple thing…” Aziraphale sniffled, his odd phrasing suggesting that he was repeating something told him in derision, probably by Gabriel. 

“More like rocket surgery,” Crowley deadpanned. “Boil until mixture reaches soft-ball stage? What the _heck_?” He looked at Aziraphale. “If your balls are soft by that stage, you’re probably doing something wrong.” It was pretty lame as sarcastic remarks went, but it had the desired effect of making Aziraphale giggle just a little bit through his tears. 

“Not bollocks, silly. You’re supposed to drop a little of it in cold water and if it forms a soft – ball – then it’s at the soft ball stage.” 

“Cold water and balls are not a good combination,” Crowley observed, sending Aziraphale into another giggling fit. Granted, it was a bit on the hysterical side, but at least his angel was laughing. Crowley hugged him tighter and kissed the top of his head. “You know I love you, right?”

“Even if I ruined your pan?” Aziraphale looked up.

“If I remember correctly, that’s the one I set on fire once.” Crowley winced. “I got wrapped up watching the new Doctor’s debut and forgot I was making mac and cheese. Luc was not happy with me, to say the least.”

“Luc?”

“My ex. The one who threw me out.”

“Was it over that?”

“No, something different.” Crowley twined his fingers through Aziraphale’s soft curls. “He wanted to see other guys on the side. He said he felt too tied down being “exclusive.” He did finger quotes with one hand. “I told him I didn’t want to be one of his side pieces and we got in a huge fight. He told me I was acting like a – well, like a fucking pussy about it. And it ended with me on my parents’ doorstep at midnight.”

“Gabriel slept around too, but at least when he wasn’t there I had a little time to myself,” Aziraphale said. “At least he wasn’t there to yell at me.”

“Remember not too long after we met when I said I got tested and it came back clean? That was why,” Crowley said. “I realized I had no idea who or what he’d been doing behind my back.”

“Same here,” Aziraphale said, looking up. Crowley nodded, remembering it. It had been at about the same time. It was a bit ironic that one of their first conversations was about viral status. Or maybe prophetic. 

There was a brief pause as both of them realized they didn’t know what to say – one that ended in a long kiss. 

“I love you, too,” Aziraphale said softly when their lips parted. “What were you doing before I messed up the pan, anyway?”

“Trying to wrap some stuff for my mom and dad. Want to see what I got them?”

“Sure.” Aziraphale looked to make sure he actually had turned off the burner.

~*~

Ten minutes later, they’d completely forgotten about wrapping anything. They were curled together on the bed, kissing and gazing into each other’s eyes. 

“I don’t know if I said it, but I don’t want to be with anyone else. Ever,” Aziraphale said when their lips parted for a moment. This was not how he imagined it would end up when he set the smoke alarm off. Gabriel would have been furious. 

“Me neither.” Crowley kissed him softly. “I love being with you. I never feel like I have to watch what I say because you’ll take it the wrong way and get mad or something.”

“Luc sounds almost as awful as Gabriel.”

“Not really. I mean, he didn’t treat me like I was only good for running errands and sucking cock. But he had a heck of a temper.” Crowley wrapped himself tighter around Aziraphale, who snuggled closer. Sometimes when Crowley was in full hug mode, it felt like there were more limbs than should have been possible wrapped around him. It was wonderful. 

“Mmm. Angel, you are _tense_ ,” Crowley murmured. “How about a nice long back rub?”

Aziraphale actually didn’t feel tense – he felt relaxed enough to fall asleep, almost – but he certainly wasn’t going to say no to that. Nor was he going to say no to the leisurely afternoon shag he knew was going to follow. 

Crowley disentangled himself almost reluctantly. “Get undressed, okay angel? I’ll be right back.”

Aziraphale wished briefly for curtains so he could dim the light in the bedroom, but there weren’t any. Crowley hadn’t bothered despite the room being an eastern/southern exposure because really, they were too far off the ground for anyone to see in. He had to remind himself that his boyfriend didn’t have the same negative view of his body that Gabriel had. Nevertheless, he had wound the throw around himself when Crowley came back in. 

“Cutiepie.” He sat back down on the bed and kissed the tip of Aziraphale’s nose. “Stretch out, okay?”

Aziraphale did, closing his eyes. A moment later he felt the bed shift as Crowley climbed back on it. He was pretty sure Crowley had gotten undressed, too. He rather hoped so. 

“You know what I’m really up to, don’t you?” Crowley murmured, leaning over to nuzzle his ear. 

“I know what I hope you’re up to,” Aziraphale said with a contented little wiggle.

“Well, let’s just say it involves tempting a certain angel into doing some rather – naughty – things with a certain demon.” Crowley gently worked his fingers into Aziraphale’s shoulders. 

“And how does said demon intend to accomplish that?” Aziraphale inquired. 

“Oh, we have our ways.” Crowley leaned over him to nip gently at his earlobe before trailing his lips along the nape of his angel’s neck. Somewhat to Aziraphale’s surprise, he was still fully dressed. The press of fabric between them felt odd against his bare skin. 

“Do your worst, foul fiend. I’ll never give in to you. Never.” Aziraphale didn’t sound all that convincing, but he wanted to at least try to play along. 

“Oh angel, I’ll make you beg for it. I’ll make you scream my name before we’re through.” The bed shifted as Crowley moved away, presumably to get undressed. 

“I’ll never give in to your wicked ways, demon.” Aziraphale made at least an effort to act like he meant it. He rolled over and got up on his elbows to look at Crowley, blushing slightly when he realized he was already half-erect. He started to pull the throw over himself, but Crowley slid back onto the bed, catching his wrist. 

“Not so fast, my pretty little angel,” he purred. “I’m going to do much more than look at your gorgeous body before we’re through.”

“What do you intend to do to me?” Aziraphale tried to act frightened, but truthfully, his acting skills were really not altogether there. 

“I intend to defile every lush inch of you with my tongue, then claim you as my own, angel. Heaven won’t want you back by the time I’m through with you.” Crowley kissed him, pushing him back onto the bed. 

“You – you wouldn’t…?” _I’m certainly not giving anyone any competition at the BAFTAs for this_ , Aziraphale thought. “You wouldn’t – do that to me?” _Oh dear God, I want nothing more than for you to do all of that to me…_ He was trying to look and sound terrified, but only succeeded in giving Crowley the most innocently lascivious bedroom eyes imaginable. “Would you?”

Crowley tried his best to stifle an affectionate laugh at Aziraphale’s abysmal acting skills. He was simply too adorable for words. “Oh silly angel, you don’t know the half of what I intend to do to you.” As he spoke, he rubbed his thumb in slow circles across his angel’s nipple, making Aziraphale gasp and arch into his touch. 

“See? You can’t even pretend you don’t want me, my beautiful, wonton little angel…”

“Wanton. Not wonton.”

“Wait, what?” Crowley looked at him. They stared at each other for a moment before Aziraphale dissolved into giggles, taking Crowley with him. 

“Wanton…” Aziraphale said when he could speak. “Wontons are those little dumpling things in soup.”

“Wait. Is that what I said?” Crowley had no idea what he’d just come out with. 

Aziraphale nodded. “Although I guess there are worse things than calling me your little dumpling.” His expression was so sweetly adoring that Crowley melted. 

“Well, you are. My little wanton wonton.” He kissed Aziraphale softly. “Silly angel. Now I’m going to finish defiling you, my darling.” He nuzzled a line of soft, scalding kisses down Aziraphale’s throat, abruptly biting at a spot between his neck and shoulder and sucking hard, intending to leave a mark that would be easily covered up. Aziraphale whimpered, clutching at him. He simply couldn’t act like he didn’t want this; the idea of Crowley supposedly taking him against his will left him breathless and shivering with desire. Not that Crowley would ever have actually done anything to him against his will. Anything but. 

“Heaven won’t even recognize you by the time I’m through with you, angel.” Crowley licked the hollow at the base of his angel’s throat, then swept his tongue along Aziraphale’s collarbone, making him cry out. 

“Please…you wouldn’t…they’ll never take me back…” It was possibly edging too close to the truth, Aziraphale realized as he spoke. Not that he was sure he even wanted his family to take him back.

“And why would you want them to? Bunch of self-righteous, stuck-up pricks.” Crowley slid up so they were nose-to-nose. “You’re too good for them, angel. Too pure, too beautiful to be real, almost. That’s why they want you to fall. You’re showing them up for what they are.” He ran his fingers down Aziraphale’s chest, briefly teasing his other nipple, then down across the soft curve of his stomach, feeling the muscles twitch and quiver under his touch. “There’s nothing sinful in pleasure, my beautiful angel, as long as no one’s getting hurt. And you’re not getting hurt. You want this, don’t you? You want my mouth on you, want to know what it’s like when I slowly lick your cock before taking it in my mouth, sucking you until you come for me…”

“Y-yes, please, m-my demon, please, take me…” Aziraphale whispered, looking at him through lowered lashes. 

Crowley kissed him, hard, and it turned into a long, lingering kiss. When their lips finally parted, he gazed into Aziraphale’s blue eyes for a long moment before kissing his nose.

“My angel,” he whispered again, before sliding down to slowly lick and nip his way up the inside of his angel’s thigh, reveling in Aziraphale’s helpless whimpering. He paused, considering, then ever-so-slowly ran just the tip of his tongue up the underside of his angel’s erection, making Aziraphale cry out and clutch at the duvet. 

“You want this, don’t you?” he murmured, still in character. “You want me to take you, defile you, use you however I see fit? You want it, don’t you, my wanton little angel?”

“I…” Aziraphale couldn’t get any words together at that moment. Crowley took that as a yes (which it was) and swirled his tongue slowly around the head of his angel’s cock, flicking just the tip against the brutally sensitive ridge just underneath. Aziraphale gasped and whimpered, unable to watch, knowing he’d come right then and there if he did. He cried out when Crowley took him in his mouth as far as he dared, sucking hard for just a moment, then went back to slowly licking him along the entire swollen length of his cock, apparently unconcerned that he was driving his angel to a near-meltdown.

“Crowley, I – I can’t, I…” It was almost, but not quite, enough to make him come and he was pretty sure Crowley knew it. 

“See? I knew you’d want more of me, angel. I knew you’d beg for it.” As silly as their game was, Crowley was actually enjoying it. “You want my cock in you, don’t you, angel?”

“Wh-what? I—I…?” Aziraphale was more or less back in character, as much as his questionable acting skills would allow. “I would never let you defile me, foul demon…” _Like heck I wouldn’t. I want you so badly…_

“Tis not a question of you letting me, angel. Tis a question of me taking what I desire,” Crowley purred, sliding up Aziraphale’s body to fetch the tube of lubricant out of the night table drawer. 

“I’ll never – oh!” Aziraphale broke off with a cry as Crowley slipped a finger into him, working deeper before adding a second.

“Fuck angel, you are _tight_ ,” he said, almost breaking character. “I can’t wait to bury my cock in your tight little perfect arse. You’ll belong to me forever. Heaven will never take you back.”

“You’ll never…” Aziraphale couldn’t get the rest of whatever he’d been about to say out. Crowley had just found the perfect spot and was stroking it, teasing, making him gasp and arch into his lover’s touch, needing more. “Crowley!”

“That’s right, angel. Say my name…” Crowley withdrew his fingers, prompting a whimper of protest from Aziraphale, who was having a hard time pretending he wasn’t enjoying it. “You’re mine now, angel. Forever.” He wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer himself. He gently moved himself and Aziraphale into position so he could slowly ease into him, working slowly as much for his angel’s sake as his own. “Oh fuck, you are tight. Angel…”

“Crowley…” Aziraphale would have tried to keep up his playacting, but unfortunately his brain had more or less stopped responding. He gasped when Crowley partially withdrew, then slowly thrust into him again. It took a couple more tries before he hit the right spot and Aziraphale nearly screamed. “Th-that’s it! Oh God, Crowley!”

“Angel…” Crowley abandoned any pretense of playing a game and just focused on bringing himself and his angel to orgasm. “My beautiful angel…” 

Aziraphale clung to him, whimpering with each hard thrust, eyes closed because he feared he’d come right away if he tried to meet Crowley’s gaze. It was almost more than he could take. 

“Angel!” Crowley whispered, leaning over to kiss him. “Look at me.”

“Crowley?” Aziraphale managed to focus on him. He was impossibly gorgeous, his hair falling around his face in tangled waves, skin flushed and slick with sweat, his strange amber eyes dazed with adoration and pure lust. And this beautiful, perfect creature was making love to him? Him of all people?

“Angel, my angel…” Crowley shifted position a bit, rocking his hips more than thrusting but somehow sliding in deeper, rubbing against that one perfect spot. Aziraphale clung tighter, trembling, very close to orgasm but not quite…

“Gotcha.” Crowley shifted a bit more to reach his angel’s neglected erection. “It’s okay, angel. Come for me. I want to see you come first.”

“I…” Aziraphale tried to meet his gaze. “I – oh God, Crowley!” He nearly screamed as he came, his climax drenching both of them. His twisting and spasming brought Crowley over the edge with a cry of his own, shuddering as the spasms racked through him, barely coherent enough to pull free and collapse atop the dazed Aziraphale, who clung to him, shivering in the aftermath. 

“Oh angel…” He roused himself after a few minutes to dust little kisses over his angel’s face and throat, thinking that he probably needed to get them cleaned up a bit as soon as he found the energy to move. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Mmm?” Aziraphale focused on him, more or less, blissfully dazed. _Aziraphale.exe has apparently stopped working_ , Crowley thought in amusement. 

~*~

A little while later, they were sitting curled together on the sofa, freshly showered and dressed again. Aziraphale was sipping cocoa with Mehitibel curled on his lap while Crowley snuggled both of them, watching the lights coming on out the window rather than the TV that was on with the sound muted. It was one of Crowley’s more unusual quirks, turning the TV on just for the light and motion but muting the sound because it annoyed him. About the only thing he seemed to be able to tolerate for background noise was something like a football match. Either way, it didn’t bother Aziraphale. 

“You’re not nervous about spending Christmas at Tianna and Freddie’s, are you?” Crowley said after a few minutes. 

“No. Yeah, maybe. Kind of, a little.” Aziraphale looked at him. “I’ve never really – had a normal Christmas, you know.” He looked down at the contented cat. “What about Mehitibel?”

“We’ll bring her. You know how Freddie is with cats. And she gets on well with all of his,” Crowley said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there are a few things under that huge tree of theirs for her.”

Aziraphale looked down. “I tried to get something for everyone, but I didn’t know what to get. Plus I don’t have a whole lot of money.” He didn’t expect anyone to have gotten him anything, but he was looking forward to seeing everyone open theirs. He wondered if it was really going to be like in those stupid movies he’d cried himself to sleep over. 

“You weren’t expected to get anyone anything.” Crowley kissed his nose. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate whatever you got.”

Aziraphale smiled shyly and snuggled closer. Mehitibel meowed in protest as her chosen lap shifted underneath her. 

Crowley reached over the side of the sofa to switch on the outlet strip that the Christmas lights in the window were hooked up to, then hugged Aziraphale tighter. 

This was going to be one of the happiest Christmases ever, he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale's fudge-making disaster is something that happened to me. Except in my case, it involved a lot of swearing and running around opening windows - in January. I'm usually pretty good in the kitchen, but this was not one of those times. 
> 
> And speaking of the kitchen, between the fact that I'm back living on my own after years of first roommates, then being a caregiver for both my parents at different points and this pandemic that has us all in lockdown, I've been doing a lot of nesting and reorganizing and whatnot. I think it's spilling over into Aziraphale redoing Crowley's kitchen. 
> 
> And that wanton/wonton thing was too good not to do.


	11. Christmas Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale's first real Christmas celebration gets underway - and the others get to (virtually, sort of) meet his father.

“Let’s see…” Crowley checked through the assortment of brightly wrapped boxes. “Looks like we’ve got everything here.” He was speaking to Mehitibel, who was perched on the breakfast table, watching. “Yes, there’s even something for you in here somewhere, Little Miss Queen-of-All-She-Surveys.” He scratched behind her ears, then stroked her. “And didn’t we have a discussion about no cats on tables?” They had, many times, but it always ended with Mehitibel on the table – usually eating out of his plate - and Crowley giving up on convincing her not to do either one. At least she left his plants alone other than the occasional nap curled around the base of the palm tree. 

“More like She Who Must Be Obeyed…” Aziraphale brought out several of his own. “I still have to get the rest out of the closet.” They were getting ready to head over to Freddie and Tianna’s. 

“Angel…” As Crowley had feared, his darling angel had indeed gone very much overboard buying gifts for everyone last-minute. “I’m paying off part of your charge card bills, you know.” He would have paid off everything, but he knew Aziraphale wouldn’t let him. 

“I can’t take your money like that. It wouldn’t be right.” Aziraphale returned with several more boxes. “I still have a couple more.”

“You’ve bought groceries, kitchen stuff, things for the flat. I can’t not contribute. That isn’t right, either.” Crowley followed him to help bring the rest of the boxes in. 

“I’m not with you for your money. Me getting evicted aside…” Aziraphale turned to look at him, taking his boyfriend’s hands in his and looking down. “It’s only fair that I contribute my share.”

“You’re contributing far more than your share. If you’re buying things for us, then I need to contribute. It’s only fair.” Crowley kissed his nose. 

“How did you and Luc work it?” Aziraphale said, looking back up. 

“That’s just it. I was the one who bought all the stuff we actually needed. He never really helped out. Now I’m watching you doing what I was stuck doing and I’m not going to do that to you. We’re in this together.”

“He really does sound as bad as Gabriel, except the other way around. He was the one who decided what we needed. I didn’t have a say in much of anything. And I learned pretty quickly not to argue with that.” Aziraphale stretched up to kiss Crowley softly on the mouth. “I just feel guilty asking you for anything. You’ve already done so much for me.”

“We’re a team, angel. We’re on our own side now.” Crowley held up a small package. “You outdid yourself, sweetheart. You even got Opal something.” 

“It’s just an outfit for her favorite doll.” Aziraphale looked sheepish. “And a book. It wasn’t fair for me to not get her something if we’re spending Christmas there. Does the wrapping look okay?”

“It all looks nice.” Crowley said, picking up another box to look. 

“I didn’t know how. I had to look up on YouTube how to wrap presents.” Aziraphale looked sheepish. 

“You didn’t…?”

“My father didn’t allow it, remember?” That wasn’t quite true. Christmas, yes, but his brothers had all gotten birthday parties. It had never occurred to him to question why he never got so much as a “Happy Birthday,” never mind a gift. He didn’t tell Crowley as much, though. The last thing he wanted was to make his boyfriend feel like he was trying to scam his way into presents/attention he knew he didn’t deserve. “I had to figure out how to wrap the boxes. Turns out it’s a lot like putting a flat sheet on a mattress.” At least he knew how to make a hospital corner. That part had been easy.

“Another reason I love you, angel.” Crowley kissed him. “Now we just need to put Mehitibel in the carrier and we’re all set.” He picked up the carrier and looked around. “Wait. Where did she go? She was right there.”

_Ten minutes later:_

“Will you get out from under there? You’re _not_ going to the vet…” Crowley was trying his best to squirm under the bed to reach Mehitibel, who was determined to have nothing whatsoever to do with the carrier. She kept backing up, not realizing she was backing into Aziraphale’s reach until he caught her. She let out something between a meow and a yowl of protest as he extricated her. 

“We’re going to Freddie’s place, sweetie,” he said, standing up with the bewildered cat in his arms. 

“Hold her!” Crowley ran to get the carrier.

“You’re going to get to play with Miko and Oscar and Delilah and Romeo and – oh dear…” Aziraphale couldn’t think of the names of the other two. Sylvia and Sebastian were Tianna’s two, he knew. “And I bet Freddie got you a new catnip mouse. Won’t that be fun?”

Mehitibel looked at him skeptically.

“Nip is the only way I can get her into the carrier sometimes,” Crowley said, coming back in with the smaller of the two carriers, the soft-sided one. “Problem is she’s smarter than I am. Here we go, furbag. In.” This time, Mehitibel relented and allowed Crowley to take her and usher her into the carrier. “I don’t use this one for vet trips, so she’s a little cooler with it.” The vet’s office required hard-sided carriers. He zipped the carrier up. “Shall we load the car up and hit the road, angel?”

~*~

They arrived at the Garden Lodge around 1:30 PM, to be greeted by Freddie and several of his cats. 

“Darlings, welcome!” He gave them each a hug. “And I see you brought Miss Mehitibel along.”

“I didn’t want to leave her for that long, and I’m not boarding her,” Crowley said. 

“Dear, you know I never say no to another furry face.” Freddie took the carrier. “Come on, darling, you know I have a new toy for you?”

“You didn’t get her another pot of fresh catnip, did you?” Crowley looked slightly apprehensive. 

“Dear, she loves her ‘nip.”

“Great.” Crowley rolled his eyes in a comically exaggerated manner and looked at Aziraphale. “Everyone thinks I’m the one who needs rehab and it’s actually my cat.”

“I don’t know why everyone thinks you have a drug problem,” Aziraphale said. He’d heard the rumors, of course. Pretty much everyone had. 

“It’s because I’m such a scatterbrained mess most of the time. They think it’s drugs but it’s my ADHD.” Crowley looked sheepish. It seemed odd to say “ADHD” when the hyperactive part had never been the problem. It was his scattered, non-focusing brain that short-circuited at the mere mention of actually concentrating on anything that had always been the problem. He was beyond grateful that his parents had chosen to get help instead of punishing him. Ritalin and therapy had worked, if not wonders, at least well enough for him to learn to focus enough to do reasonably well in school and even go on to university. “Seriously, angel, you could probably do better than me, but…”

“Don’t say that!” Aziraphale grabbed him and hugged him, more than slightly frantic. “Please don’t. I’ll never find anyone better than you. Oh, Crowley…”

“I was going to say you’re stuck with me.” Crowley hugged him tight. “Silly angel, I love you so much.” He kissed the top of Aziraphale’s head. “My beautiful angel. My love. My world. My everything.” _How long have I wanted to tell him that?_

Aziraphale looked up, his eyes wide and very soft. “Oh, Crowley…” He’d never imagined anyone ever looking at him the way Crowley was, with so much love that even his timorous heart could see it. He’d never thought he’d be found worthy of love. 

Crowley glanced up, broke into a mischievous grin and pulled Aziraphale several steps to the side to kiss him, softly but quite thoroughly. 

Aziraphale looked up when their lips parted, blushing. “Is that…?”

“Sure is,” Crowley replied with a laugh. To his surprise – and delight – Aziraphale pulled him down for another kiss. 

Freddie smiled. They were adorable. And he’d put that mistletoe there for just that reason. 

Just as their lips parted, Phoebe’s voice startled them. “Hey Crowley? Pop the boot for me, would you?” 

Crowley went to look around the door, still holding Aziraphale’s hand. “Phoebe, you don’t have to get those.” He felt guilty. He’d forgotten about the rest of the packages. Then again, it was hard to really focus on much of anything else once Aziraphale made big blue eyes at him. 

Freddie’s longtime assistant grinned at him. “It’s no trouble at all, Crowley. Go settle in.” He was getting the rest of the packages out of the Bentley. 

“Dear, I really didn’t ask him to do that,” Freddie said. “So this is really your first time celebrating Christmas normally, isn’t it, dear?” he added, speaking to Aziraphale. 

“I don’t know if I’d call anything you do “normal,” Crowley said. 

“Shut up, darling,” Freddie retorted good-naturedly, opening the carrier and letting Mehitibel out. She immediately trotted over to Crowley with a meow, asking to be picked up. 

~*~

After they got settled in, Crowley showed Aziraphale around the Lodge, ending up in the kitchen. 

“Hey guys,” Tianna said, looking around from the refrigerator, where she was standing eating shredded mozzarella out of the bag while she peered into its chilly depths. 

“What are you doing?” Crowley said. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She arched an eyebrow at him. 

“Getting shredded cheese on the floor,” he said with a laugh. 

“Vacuum cleaner will get it,” she said nonchalantly, looking down as Romeo padded over, sniffing. “See? There you go.”

“Should he be eating that?” Crowley said. 

“Don’t see why not,” Tianna said, resealing the bag and putting it in the refrigerator. “Come on. You haven’t seen the tree.”

“You go, angel. I’ll get the rest of the stuff to put under it,” Crowley said. 

Aziraphale followed her into the main room and stopped short, wide-eyed. “Oh my God…” Freddie had just switched all the lights on. The tree was probably about seven or eight feet tall and awash with sparkling lights, garland and ornaments. The windows twinkled with multicolored lights and more lights and garland festooned the room. Underneath, the tree was piled high with brightly wrapped boxes. It looked like a scene out of one of the movies he’d cried himself to sleep over. 

“Not too shabby, hmm?” Tianna said with a grin.

Aziraphale couldn’t get the words together to reply. 

“Zira? Are you all right?” Opal, who had been sitting on the floor surrounded by Barbie dolls, was looking at him worriedly. She liked her cousin’s best friend. Well, boyfriend now. 

He nodded. “It’s just so – beautiful.”

Crowley came in, carrying another wrapped box, and stopped short as well. “Whoa. You guys really outdid yourselves this time…”

“Freddie said he was going to make it big,” Opal said. 

“And he certainly succeeded, mignon,” Crowley said, using Tianna’s nickname for her. 

Aziraphale went to help Crowley with the boxes. “Is it okay if I…” He looked hesitantly at the tree. 

“Dear, of course. That’s the whole point of it,” Freddie said with a smile. _Poor Zira. It’s really not right that he’s having his first Christmas at – however old he is, anyway._ He needed to remind Crowley that Zira’s birthday was in March. The little party they’d had in the office breakroom earlier this year before had been, unknown to them at the time, the first – and only - birthday celebration poor Aziraphale had ever had. Freddie had decided that would simply _not_ do this year, especially now that Zira was going to part of the family. 

Aziraphale helped Crowley carry the rest of the boxes over, looking up at the tree in wide-eyed wonder. He’d never been this close to an actual Christmas tree before – well, one not in a box that didn’t fit in Crowley’s car, anyway.

“What do you want me to do?” he said shyly, setting the boxes down. 

“Hold these just for a moment, angel…” Crowley handed him several smaller boxes so he could tuck one of the larger ones – with Opal’s name on the tag – behind the others.

“Do you think…oh God…” Aziraphale broke off, wide-eyed. “Is this – it can’t be right?”

“What can’t?” Crowley looked around. 

“My name’s on the…tag…?” Aziraphale was dumbfounded. 

“Yeah.” Crowley said with a smile. Back in September, he’d convinced his angel to make a wishlist on Amazon in anticipation of Christmas. Aziraphale had dutifully added items, but thought nothing else of it. He’d actually forgotten about it. He hadn’t thought that anyone intended to buy any of those items for him. Crowley had shared it with the others and they’d coordinated purchases. 

“Crowley’s not the only one who loves you, you know,” Tianna said. 

“Y-you...?” Aziraphale was feeling completely overwhelmed and like he might be about to cry. He had literally just found himself standing amid his dreams of sparkling lights and a big tree and a family who actually wanted him to be part of it. 

“Zira? Dear, are you okay?” Freddie looked at him. 

Aziraphale nodded. “It’s just that – I never thought…” He looked down. “I never thought any of this would ever happen. Not to me.”

“Any of what, dear?”

“That anybody would – want me around. Like I’m – part of the family?” He looked down, then back up, his eyes suddenly filling with tears. 

Freddie hugged him. “You _are_ part of the family, darling. Now listen. When that silly Crowley over there finally wises up and asks you to marry him, I am going to plan the most amazing wedding for the two of you. We’ll make Kate and William’s wedding look like a trip to city hall…Zira, darling? Are you all right?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I…I just…you’re all so wonderful…”

“Freddie…” Crowley blushed. He really couldn’t say they hadn’t been thinking about it, because they most definitely had been. He came over to hug Aziraphale tightly. 

Aziraphale had to cling to him for a moment until he started to get control of himself. “I’m sorry. I just – didn’t expect this…” He looked up. “You’re all so n-nice to me.”

Now Crowley thought he was the one who was going to cry. He hugged Aziraphale tighter. “Oh angel, I wish I’d known. I would have asked you to be mine sooner.”

“I’m yours now.” Aziraphale looked up at him. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

Crowley smiled through his own tears. “How does forever sound?”

Aziraphale kissed him. “That works.”

~*~

“How many people are you expecting tomorrow?” Crowley was peering into the fridge, wide-eyed, at a ginormous turkey.

“You and Zira, your mom and dad, your grandad and grandma, your sisters, I think Freddie’s parents – not sure if they’re joining us or going to his sister’s place for dinner – and I think that’s it.” Phoebe said. 

“That’s another thing, angel. You have to come with me to the States this summer and meet the rest of the family.” Crowley looked at Aziraphale, who was sitting at the kitchen table, looking rather shy and nervous.

“I’d have to get a passport,” he said shyly. “I’ve never even been out of England proper, much less anywhere else.”

“Where have you been?” Crowley sat down as well.

“Tadfield, here and – Caansfield when we went to get the tree.” Aziraphale looked down. “I haven’t even been anywhere in London except here in Kensington.”

“We’re going to have to fix that, angel.” Crowley leaned over to kiss him. “There are so many places I want to take you. I take it your family wasn’t into vacations?”

“They took my brothers places. Not me. I had to stay home with my sisters.” Aziraphale was still looking into his cocoa. “Gabriel didn’t want anyone to know we were together. So he’d go without me, too.”

“I’m not going anywhere without you.” Crowley squeezed his angel’s hand. “I want to introduce you to the rest of my family. They’re all going to love you.”

“They’re okay with you – having a boyfriend?”

Crowley nodded. “It’ll be fine, angel. Don’t worry. I’ll take you to meet everyone, we’ll see New Orleans and then go wherever you want to go from there. How’s that?”

“I – wouldn’t even know where to start…” Aziraphale looked at him, wide-eyed. He’d never imagined actually going anywhere else, and certainly not with someone who wanted to take him. 

“We’ve got the rest of our lives together to figure everything out, angel,” Crowley said, his voice nonchalant. He got up, kissing Aziraphale on the nose. “I’ll be back in a few minutes love.”

Aziraphale stared after him, wide-eyed. _Did he really say the rest of our lives together?!_

~*~

Later, Aziraphale was on the sofa snuggled against Crowley, half-asleep after having probably eaten too much at Christmas Eve dinner. He was bundled up in pale blue silk pajamas and a fuzzy tartan fleece robe, his bare feet tucked under a throw. It was literally the last place he’d thought he’d be on Christmas Eve. The strange part was how very comfortable he felt at the Garden Lodge. He felt like he was actually wanted here. Like he – belonged. He didn’t even feel weird about being in pajamas. It felt normal. 

He wondered if this was what Christmas Eve with the family was supposed to be like. 

Crowley, for his part, had changed into a black long-sleeved t-shirt and gray pajama bottoms. He had his feet under the throw as well, his toes entwined in an almost prehensile manner with Aziraphale’s. He’d be the first to admit that he had weird feet. He was happy just admiring the tree and basking in the simple pleasure of having his favorite cousins around and an angel in his arms on Christmas Eve. 

It was exactly what Christmas Eve with the family should have been like.

“You okay, angel?” he murmured. 

Aziraphale nodded and yawned, snuggling closer. “Sorry.”

“You’re too cute.” Crowley nuzzled into his hair. 

Tianna was clicking through channels on the TV. All at once, she stopped short. 

“Is this who I think it is talking to Graham Norton?” she said. 

Aziraphale looked around, mildly curious, then abruptly sat up. “Are you serious?” Graham’s current guest was none other than the Reverend Dr. Ezekiel J. Shepard – aka Aziraphale’s father – talking about his new book. He was dressed in an iron-gray suit perfectly tailored to his broad, imposing frame, looking very out of place on the colorful, decorated set. 

“Oh fuck…” Crowley looked around to make sure Opal hadn’t come in. Tianna had put her to bed about forty-five minutes ago. 

“Is that your father?” Freddie’s eyes went wide. “He’s absolutely terrifying!”

Aziraphale nodded. 

“…spent the day honoring the birth of our Savior, as it should be,” Shepard was saying. “Many Christians are ignorant of the fact that the so-called decorated “Christmas Tree” is an instrument of Paganism-slash-Satanism, as are lights and other decorations. The custom of gift-giving is to encourage the sin of gluttony. I never permitted such things in my house.”

“Told you.” Aziraphale looked at Crowley.

“He sounds like he’s about as much fun as a…” Freddie was trying and failing to come up with a suitable simile.

“Sandpaper dildo?” Crowley suggested. 

“What’s a dildo?” Aziraphale looked confused. 

Tianna started to say something along the lines of _oh, you sweet summer child,_ but Shepard was still talking. 

“As the man of the house, your duty is to set firm, strict limits and stick to them. My prodigal son, Az-Raphael…” Poor Aziraphale hadn’t been kidding when he said his own father didn’t know how to pronounce his name… “…tested those limits regularly, and I never hesitated to raise a firm, Godly hand in correction of his disobedience and disrespect of my authority…”

Aziraphale cringed, overcome with deep, burning shame. He’d never meant to be disobedient, much less disrespectful; all he’d ever wanted to be was a good child, but nothing he’d done had ever pleased his father. He couldn’t get anything right. Either he was being a stupid little copycat mimicking his brothers, or he was being berated about not acting enough like them – always before that firm, Godly raised hand corrected the living daylights out of him. He hid his face against Crowley’s shoulder for a moment, then peeked back up. 

Crowley was staring wide-eyed at the TV. Shepard’s eyes were dark and dead, like holes. No light, no compassion, no humanity. He hugged Aziraphale tighter. _You fucking bastard. You’ll never hurt my angel again._

“As in beatings?” Norton sounded incredulous.

“Corporeal punishment in the proper way described by God. A man’s duty of Godly control and discipline also extend to the wife. Firm physical discipline should be used as necessary.”

Aziraphale shuddered. Even though his mother had never shown him any warmth or love, he still hadn’t liked watching her getting smacked around. Worse was watching his older brothers treat her with the same contempt their father did. 

“I’ll show you discipline. With a frying pan!” Tianna raised the remote threateningly. 

“Worse, we now have this tolerance – celebration, even – of forms of moral and sexual deviancy that God expressly forbids. I firmly believe that such children should be re-educated and redirected to proper paths.”

“So you’re saying you support conversion therapy?” Norton sounded aghast.

“Correctional. There is no conversion. You either walk the path of God or you do not. Sadly, my prodigal is one of those degenerates. He fled the family fold to live a life of depravation in London, but I pray to God that he will see the error of his ways and return to his proper place…”

Aziraphale shuddered again and pressed tightly against Crowley. “Never…”

“Bastard!” Tianna shut off the TV. “Go get fucked. Up the arse. With a broken bottle.” She sat down on Aziraphale’s other side. “Zira sweetie? Are you okay?” 

Aziraphale nodded, forcing himself to breathe normally. _They hadn’t guessed…_

“Fuck.” Crowley now had an idea of what sort of hell his angel had been put through, but he said nothing. 

“Fuck him. I’m never going back there…” Aziraphale’s voice was muffled against the curve of Crowley’s neck. He took a deep, shuddering breath and looked up at them. “I don’t care what he says about me. If he wants to cast me as the evil son, fine. He can call me whatever he wants. But I’ll never go back there. I’ll sleep in my car before I do that.” He didn’t add that he already had. Despite his tremulousness, there was a note of steel in his voice – and eyes – that up until now only Crowley had known existed. “I do know my place and – that’s not it.”

 _Atta angel,_ Crowley thought. _You really are just enough of a bastard, aren’t you?_

“Dear, you’ll never end up sleeping in your car as long as we have something to do about it,” Freddie said, then smiled and looked at the others. “And I don’t think I’ve ever heard our dear Zira curse before.”

“I’m sorry…” Aziraphale looked sheepish.

“No dear. It was quite appropriate under the circumstances,” Freddie said. “He’s perfectly horrid.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Aziraphale said. “I tried to be good, you know. I wanted to be. I just – I guess I didn’t know how.” He looked down. 

“Nobody in their right mind would want to be his idea of good,” Tianna said darkly. “And that kind of religious mania is a sign of mental illness, you know.”

“I don’t think he’s mentally ill. I think he’s just an asshole,” Crowley said. 

“Or it _was_ me…” Poor Aziraphale was once again caught in the loop of wanting to believe it had been abuse, that he hadn’t deserved it, but not being able to believe that he hadn’t. 

“He can’t even pronounce your name!” Tianna said. “What kind of father can’t pronounce his own child’s name?”

“I think he just can’t be arsed to pronounce it correctly,” Crowley said. “Fucking bastard. Who does he think he is, hurting my angel?” The last bit he mostly said to himself, but Aziraphale looked up, feeling a rush of warmth at the fierce protectiveness of his boyfriend’s voice. 

"Nanny Rose gave up trying to correct him early on.” He shivered a bit. “The worst part was watching my brothers treat my mother the same way he did. Like she was – less than nothing. That’s not right. I mean, she did everything for them, and they never so much as said thank you in return.”

“Like the cooking and all…” Crowley felt guilty. He was suddenly seeing how much Aziraphale was falling into the same role in their relationship.

“But you appreciate it.” Aziraphale looked at him. “I like doing things for you. You appreciate it.”

Crowley kissed him. “My angel.”

“Looks like you’re the only apple who managed to roll away from that tree,” Tianna said. 

"I knew it wasn’t right. I just didn’t think I deserved any better.” Aziraphale looked down. “I just – didn’t think anyone could ever love me the way that I am.”

“How could anyone not?” Crowley said, hugging him closer.

~*~

“I’m pretty sure Opal has given up on Santa Claus, but I also don’t think she’s going to get a whole lot of sleep tonight,” Crowley was saying. It was close to midnight and he and Aziraphale had just headed up to their room. Mehitibel was already asleep on the foot of the bed. 

Aziraphale shivered. “Back home we’d be waiting for midnight service to start.”

“What denomination is your father, anyway?” Crowley said.

“Honestly? I have no idea anymore. I think he thinks he’s his own religion,” Aziraphale said. He was in bed already, sitting up against the pillows. “He’s claimed to be sent by God.”

“Why? Was He out of locusts?” Crowley looked around the doorway to the little ensuite bathroom, toothbrush in one hand and tube of toothpaste in the other.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale broke into his wheezy laugh. “I shouldn’t be laughing at that, you know…”

Crowley didn’t reply right away. He turned the water off and came back out a couple of minutes later, turning off the light and climbing into bed, prompting an annoyed _ffft_ from Mehitibel as he disturbed her. 

“I will tell you one thing, angel. If he hadn’t been such a complete fucktard, I wouldn’t have you with me, and I would be a lot less happy than I am now,” he said. “You would have thought there was a way of us finding each other that didn’t involve you being hurt like you were, though.”

Aziraphale shrugged. “Who knows? It’s…ineffable.” 

“The great ineffable plan.” Crowley snuggled down under the blankets with him. “I love you, angel.”

Aziraphale kissed him. “Love you, too.”

Crowley hugged him closer. He hadn’t been this excited for Christmas in – well, since he was a kid, really. It was going to be unforgettable…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Aziraphale. When I first read _Good Omens_ back in 2001, I kept mentally calling him "angel" they way Crowley did because that was the closest pronunciation I could come up with and I knew it wasn't right. 
> 
> "Furbag" is one of my generic nicknames for any of my several furry pets. 
> 
> Aziraphale's father is based on several over-the top Bible-thumping types I've had the misfortune of knowing over the years. He's rather out of place in the UK, but would have quite the worshipful (no pun intended) fan base in the States.
> 
> And I know Zira wouldn't need a passport within the UK, but he's also never been _anywhere_


	12. Christmas for Better or Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Warning for remembered trauma - Aziraphale has a serious PTSD episode. Nothing explicit, but a lot of remembered ugly language*
> 
> It's Christmas morning and everything is all right with the world - until unexpectedly seeing his father on TV again triggers a lot of things poor Aziraphale wishes he could forget.

“Zira, Crowley, come on! It’s Christmas morning!” Opal’s voice startled them both out of a doze. 

“So it is…” It was just starting to get light out, much earlier than Crowley normally preferred to be up – but today, he didn’t care. After all, not only was it Christmas, it was Aziraphale’s first real Christmas. His angel. His Christmas angel for real. “Come on, angel. It’s Christmas!”

Aziraphale peeked out from under the blankets. “Back home I would have been at church for about seven hours already,” he said drowsily. “Midnight mass and all. Listening to my father rage on and on and on.” At one point he’d been dreaming he was. It was nice to wake up and have it be just that – a dream. And even nicer to wake up with Crowley twined around him like an affectionate anaconda. 

Crowley ruffled his angel’s already-rumpled curls and kissed him. “You’ll like this better. Come on.” 

“Give me a moment…” Aziraphale blinked and looked away to stifle a yawn. “Shouldn’t I get dressed?” He’d never been allowed downstairs at home unless he was showered and properly dressed. None of them had been. He sat up, still rather bleary-eyed and not entirely awake. 

“No,” Crowley said with a laugh, rolling out of bed and finding his robe and slipper socks. The floor was cold.

“No one’s going to mind? I’m kind of a mess.”

“Angel, you look fine.” Crowley leaned over to kiss his nose. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Come on.”

“Okay.” Aziraphale looked doubtful, but followed him, looking every bit the young Victorian angel in his tartan robe, blue pajamas and matching slippers. 

“There you two are!” Tianna said when they came downstairs. She gave them each a hug – and a wrapped box. “Merry Christmas!”

Opal was sitting under the tree with a box in her lap. “I think Zira should open the first one,” she said. 

“Oh no, dear, that’s quite all right.” Aziraphale blushed. “You go ahead. Please.” He was staring at the tree and the lights in wide-eyed wonder. It was the usual murky gray of winter outside, but the entire room sparkled and glowed. 

“How could your father think any of this is evil?” Crowley said. “It’s all about love. How is love evil?” He sat down on the sofa and patted the spot next to him. “Come here, you.”

“I don’t think he’s capable of love. I don’t think he understands it. And for him, anything he doesn’t understand is evil,” Aziraphale said, joining him. They watched as Opal tore the paper off the box to reveal a new Barbie doll. 

“You got the ginger one! Thanks, Freddie!” She hugged him.

“My mom was telling my sister once how much it bothered her that there weren’t any ginger dolls when she was growing up. All you ever saw were blondes,” Crowley said. “She said there were only two she ever saw – a little mermaid doll named Coral and a doll named Darci who came as either blonde, brunette or ginger. Except she never was able to get her hands on a ginger one and had to make do dyeing her hair with a haircoloring kit for another doll named Candi.” 

“Dears, everyone just jump in. We don’t have to take turns. We’ll never get through.” Freddie handed everyone another wrapped box each. 

“Good point. It is Christmas.” Crowley looked at the tag on the gift he was holding. 

Aziraphale looked hesitantly at his, but didn’t open it. He watched Crowley unwrap what turned out to be a red cashmere scarf from Tianna. “Tigi, I love it!”

Opal was delighted by a Maple Cat Twins Calico Critters set and Freddie, always the good host, was sorting out gifts. 

“Angel, aren’t you going to open that?” Crowley said, looking at Aziraphale in affectionate amusement. 

“I…” Aziraphale, for some reason that was inexplicable even to him, was afraid to see what it was. 

Crowley watched as Aziraphale carefully undid the tape on the paper, carefully easing the box out. He was so cute. 

“Oh dear,” he said, seeing a fancy Christmas box. “What on earth?” 

“Open it and see.” Crowley had no idea which of their presents it was. Tianna had reboxed everything. 

“Oh my heavens…” It was the Kindle that hadn’t been on his wish list but Crowley had decided he needed. “I…” He put a hand over his mouth. 

Crowley kissed his cheek. “Merry Christmas, angel. I thought you’d like that.”

“You…” Aziraphale looked at him, wide-eyed, then hugged him hard. “Thank you…”

Crowley hugged him tight, kissing the top of his head. “I love you, angel.”

“Hey, you guys.” Tianna set several boxes on the sofa. “Here you go.”

Crowley looked, handing two of them to Aziraphale and picking up one of his, looking at it curiously. It was his angel’s handwriting on the tag. 

Aziraphale froze when he realized what Crowley was opening. _Oh God, what if he hates it? Oh God, he’s going to hate it and that’ll be it, he’ll get rid of me…why did I ever think that was a good idea? He’s going to hate it. He could have anything, with his money, and you got him that? Aziraphale, you’re even more stupid than they thought…_

“Angel!” Crowley had taken the small box out and opened it to reveal a sleek, elegant watch with a deep gunmetal gray band. The face itself was black and numberless and the hands were the same gunmetal as the band. There was a small red crystal set precisely at 12:00. “Oh wow, angel, this is – I love it!” He hadn’t had a decent watch for a while now, not since the 1926 Rolex his great-grandfather Deveraux had gifted him with years ago had finally stopped working. He hugged Aziraphale tight. “Thank you, angel.”

“It’s waterproof, too. Supposed to be shockproof…” Aziraphale said. He’d had himself so convinced that Crowley would hate it that he was a little confused. “I mean, it’s just a Timex, but…”

“And I love it.” Crowley kissed him. 

“This looks like it’s from Zira, darling.” Freddie handed Opal a little package.

“Wow…” She eagerly unwrapped it, knowing it was a book from the feel of it. “ _A Wrinkle In Time_?” Her eyes went wide. “Looks cool! Thanks Zira!” She ran over to hug him.

“You’re welcome, dear,” he said. “I think you’ll really like it. I did when I was about your age. It’s about a girl, too.”

“Really?!” She looked at the back. “Cool!” 

Crowley smiled, kissing Aziraphale on the cheek again. 

~*~

A couple of hours later, Aziraphale found himself snuggled contentedly against Crowley, Kindle in hand, watching Opal trying outfits on her favorite doll. To his delight, she had deemed the one he’d gotten the prettiest of the lot. Crowley was admiring his new watch. 

“So what do you think so far, angel?” He kissed Aziraphale’s cheek. They were both showered and dressed and waiting for the rest of the family to come over. 

“I don’t get why my father thinks any of this is evil. He’s always talking about how important family is.” Aziraphale looked at him. 

“It is.” Crowley kissed him softly. “And you’re part of it now. For better or worse.”

They stayed snuggled together a little while longer, just happy being together. 

“Uncle Anthony’s here!” Opal yelled.

“Great uncle, technically. My grandad.” Crowley said to Aziraphale, who was currently getting himself more and more confused trying to figure out how to download books to his Kindle. “And I’ll help you with that later, okay angel?” 

“Okay…” Aziraphale looked sheepish and rather sad. He wasn’t totally useless with electronics, but he also wasn’t always good at figuring them out on his own. Unlike most people his age, he hadn’t grown up using them – computers and smartphones were yet another thing deemed satanic by his father. 

~*~

“So you’re Crowley’s angel,” Anthony said with a grin. He was in his eighties, but spry, dressed in a style comically similar to Aziraphale’s. 

Aziraphale nodded shyly. 

“He talks about you all the time. He has for quite a while now.” Anthony looked thoughtful. “You know, I used to think there was something wrong with it. Being gay, I mean. The old bastard in me. Had to really do some soul-searching when it turned out my favorite grandson was. I realized I was the one who was wrong.” He smiled, a bit sheepishly. “What I’m trying to say here is welcome to the family, Zira.”

“Thank you, sir.” Aziraphale couldn’t quite make eye contact. His shyness had kicked in full force. It would have been easier if Crowley was there, but he had gone to call his parents, who were the ones bringing the huge dollhouse his grandfather had made over for Opal.

“Please – call me Anthony. Or even Grandad, if you’d like. Your father’s that preacher? Shepard?”

Aziraphale nodded. “We’re – estranged, though.”

“No wonder. The man’s a menace. Wouldn’t be so out of place where Crowley’s mum comes from, but here?”

“Zira? Babe, could you give me a hand with this turkey?” It was Tianna. “I think you know more about cooking than I do.”

“I doubt it, but…” He went to see what was going on and Anthony, anxiously awaiting his son’s arrival, picked up the remote and started flipping through TV channels. All at once he landed on…

“Crowley? Is this him?” he called.

“Who? Dad?”Crowley came to look. “Oh bugger – sorry, Grandad. Yes, it is.” 

“How the hell did he produce a child who looks like Zira?” In the interview, which was apparently a repeat from the previous week, Shepard was discoursing at some length about his “five good sons” – as well as his “prodigal.”

“Although it could be argued that he in fact lives up to his name,” Shepard was saying. “He was named for the idiot angel who, along with the temptress Eve, caused the Fall of Man. The idiot angel Az-Raphael was the Guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden, who allowed himself to be lead astray by the wiles of the Serpent demon. It’s even believed by some that he fornicated with this demon in the sacred Garden itself. Worse, he lost the Flaming Sword and lied about it to God Himself! Why God did not smite the idiot angel and the temptress, I do not know, but He did not. My idiot son is every bit as stupid, vacuous and worthless as the so-called angel he was named for, and I can only hope…”

“Bastard!” Anthony shut the TV off. “How could anyone…”

A little half-gasp, half muffled sob cut him off. It was poor Aziraphale, who had come back in just in time to overhear everything on the TV. Not that it wasn’t anything he hadn’t been told before – repeatedly – but to have him say all that on TV – and with his boyfriend’s family watching? 

Before either of them could react, he bolted for the stairs. 

~*~

“Angel…?!” Crowley started after him, then looked back at his grandfather, who looked stricken. 

“I wouldn’t have turned it on if I’d known.” He shook his head. “Poor fella. How could anyone say that about their child? And his father doesn’t know shit about the Bible. Aziraphale was a right bastard when he had to be. He gave that flaming sword to Adam to protect him and Eve and turned right around and lied to God’s face about it. He was fucking feral.” 

Crowley thought that sounded like something his Aziraphale would have done, too. 

“It wasn’t your fault. I’m going to go make sure he’s all right. Look, don’t tell the others what happened, please? Zira can if he wants to.” He hurried up the stairs. 

~*~

Meanwhile, poor Aziraphale was huddled on the bed, doing his absolute best not to sob out loud. He was never going to hear the end of it. Not only had his father mocked him, so had his brothers – Sandalphon took particular glee in torturing him – and even Gabriel had picked up on it and made fun of him as well. _At least they named you after the right angel. You’re so stupid. You can’t do anything right. You’re worthless. Little worthless fuckup. Stupid ugly piece of fucking shit. You fat ugly pig. Fucking dumbass ugly cow. I’m so fucking sick of you. Why don’t you just shut your stupid mouth and die already?_ And on and on and on while he huddled on the sofa as they circled him like vultures, mocking and taunting him while he sobbed, heartbroken and terrified, knowing their words would soon turn to blows…

“Angel? Oh fuck, angel, my poor angel…” He felt the bed sink as he was enveloped in Crowley’s arms. “It’s okay, angel. I’m here, for what that’s worth.”

It was worth everything, but Aziraphale couldn’t say so. He could barely catch his breath between sobs, overwhelmed with remembered terror. He burrowed into Crowley’s arms, trying to hide. 

Crowley held him close until he seemed to at least be able to breathe between muffled sobs. He finally pushed him away just enough to look at him. “Are you all right, angel?”

“N-not really…” Aziraphale sniffled. “D-did the others – see?” He was starting to get some of his senses back, and the first was shame. He put his hands back over his face with a sob.

“Just my grandad. And I told him not to tell anyone.” Crowley figured he could help spare poor Aziraphale’s pride, at least. He hugged his shivering angel closer, stroking his hair while he cried. “It’s okay, angel. It’s all right now. I’m here.” 

Even after Aziraphale’s tears finally subsided, he stayed huddled against Crowley, not looking up. 

“I’m sorry…” he finally said, his voice muffled and very soft. “Y-you don’t have to come after me when this happens, you know. I-I’m not worth it…”

“You are.” Crowley kissed the top of his head. 

“I…I don’t know what – oh God…” Aziraphale shuddered and tried to press closer, although he was already clinging so tightly to Crowley that he really couldn’t. “It just hit me and it w-was like it was happening all over again. The way they used to gang up on me.”

“Your father and brothers?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I made the mistake of telling Gabriel and he th-thought it was funny and called me the same things they did…like a stupid fat pig and a worthless cow and…and…” His voice broke.

“Fuck…” Crowley breathed. “Just when I think I couldn’t hate them more…” He hugged Aziraphale fiercely tight, then pushed him back just enough to look into his eyes. “Nobody will ever, ever hurt you again. You’re my angel. And I will fucking destroy anyone who tries to hurt you.” His eyes were so fierce that Aziraphale shuddered with fright. 

“Crowley, n-no. Don’t get yourself in trouble on my account…”

“I don’t mean physically, angel. I’d never do anything that might take you away from me. But I don’t have a reputation as a bastard for nothing.” Crowley leaned over to kiss him, his eyes softening into something tenderly protective. “I mean it, though. Nobody hurts my angel.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me…” Aziraphale huddled against him with a shudder. 

“You were psychologically tortured and they tried to break you. They hurt you.” Crowley’s voice broke. He kissed the top of his angel’s head. “But nobody’s going to ever hurt you again.”

“I don’t think it was that. I was just – a total screwup.” Aziraphale looked up, then down. “They just – treated me like I deserved.” He was trying hard – very hard – to believe that Crowley was right and he hadn’t deserved it, but it was difficult, to say the least, especially after twenty-something years of being told that he had. 

Crowley kissed his nose. “I have to tell you what my Grandad said.”

“Wh-what?” Aziraphale looked at him fearfully.

“The angel you’re named for – he didn’t lose that sword. He gave it away. Gave it to Adam and Eve so they’d have something to protect themselves with and turned around and lied to God about it. And I really don’t see what was so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil.”

“That if you don’t know what evil is, you can’t commit it, apparently,” Aziraphale said. 

“Yeah, right. Not.” Crowley rolled his eyes. “And why put the tree in the middle of the Garden with a big “DO NOT TOUCH” sign? I mean, come on, you _know_ what’s going to happen. You wouldn’t have even needed a Serpent to tempt me.”

“You’re bad.” Aziraphale came very close to actually giggling and Crowley hugged him tight, relieved. 

“I love you, angel,” he murmured. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. You put up with me and you don’t have to.” Aziraphale shivered. “Maddy thinks I need a therapist.”

“Angel, after what they did to you – it may not be a bad idea.” Crowley really hoped Aziraphale wouldn’t take it the wrong way. “I mean, if they hurt you physically, you’d need a doctor. Psychologically isn’t any different.”

“Oh, they hurt me physically, too. But I had to suck it up and hope no one asked about the bruises.” Aziraphale’s expression, mournful and matter-of-fact all at once, broke Crowley’s heart. 

“My angel…” He held Aziraphale close. “My poor angel.”

“Hey, Crowley? Your parents just drove up!” Tianna’s voice startled them. 

“In a minute!” he called back, then looked at Aziraphale. “Are you okay to come back downstairs, sweetie?”

Aziraphale nodded. “Just stay with me, please?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a more lighthearted note, I remember being a child in the 70s and never ever seeing any brunette dolls. As a dark brunette, I thought this quite unfair. Darci was a fashion doll only made for a few years in the States, but she was just about my favorite. And I did dye her hair red with Candi's hair coloring kit.


	13. New Friends, Old Enemies and New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Crowley and Aziraphale get through Christmas, Crowley geeks out about plants and they attend the New Year's Party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a plant geek like Crowley - I may have about as many plants as he does....  
> And as for the New Year's party, well - that wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but apparently Aziraphale had other ideas. I just wrote up the report.

Crowley stopped dead in the doorway, causing Aziraphale to bump into him. 

“Look at the size of that thing…” he said.   
“That’s what she said,” Tianna deadpanned, coming to look as well. “What the…holy shit, that thing’s ginormous! Where the hecking heckity HECK are we going to put it?” She looked at Crowley and Aziraphale. “My inner nine-year-old is very, very jealous, by the way.”

Opal darted by with a squeal of joy. 

“Guess we’d better figure out a place, darling,” Freddie said with a smile. The dollhouse was a huge, hinged, peaked-roof affair constructed out of one five and one seven-shelf bookcase rather like the ones Crowley and Aziraphale had. It even had windows, a door, a front porch, a balcony, stairs and working lights. And it was currently taking up the entire back of the Range Rover with the seats folded down. 

“How did you get that in the Rover?” Crowley asked David when he joined them. 

His father looked back. “I honestly have no idea how we managed it. I also don’t know how on earth we’re going to get it out in one piece.”

Anna joined them as well. “Tigi, those plastic bins I told you to hide have the furniture in them.” She handed her niece another large bin. “This is the gazebo and the lawn furniture.”

Tianna looked at Freddie. “I think you’ve just been officially out-extraed, Freddie.”

Aziraphale was standing behind him, looking rather wistful and nervous. Crowley looked back, then pulled him closer, winding an arm around his angel’s waist. “Are you okay?” 

Aziraphale nodded, pressing closer. “I’m sorry. You do such a good job of putting up with me.” 

Crowley lifted his chin to kiss him. “I don’t put up with you. I love you.” 

“Exactly.” David wasn’t certain why poor Aziraphale looked so pale and shell-shocked, but he knew it wasn’t because of an argument with Crowley. “We all do.”

Aziraphale blushed and hid against Crowley, looking shy. “Thanks.”

~*~

With some help from a couple of the band’s willing roadies, they managed to get the bookcase dollhouse inside and set up in Opal’s expansive playroom. Anna and David, meanwhile, had given Crowley several nice jumpers along with a Marks & Spencer gift card and told him that the big gift they’d gotten him would be delivered to his flat on the twenty-seventh. As for Aziraphale, he’d been gifted a 100.00 gift card to Waterstones, three cookbooks and several cute jumpers as well. He was both overjoyed and dumbfounded. 

~*~

“Dears, you are coming to the New Year’s party, aren’t you?” Freddie was saying. It was a bit later and they were in the front room. Freddie’s parents had been by earlier, but had just left for Christmas dinner at his sister’s place. 

“What New Year’s party?” Aziraphale said. 

“Hollywood Records,” Freddie said. “It should be interesting. I think almost everyone is going to be there.”

“If Zira will, I’ll go. Otherwise, not.” Crowley looked around. “There’s just one thing about that New Year’s party, angel. It isn’t like the office party. It’s a big deal. There will be press coverage.”

“What does that mean?” Aziraphale looked apprehensive.

“Hey, Freddie?” That was Tianna. “Come help me with this.”

“It means photos. Writeups. Everyone is going to know that you’re my angel.” He leaned over to kiss Aziraphale softly. “Which I’m fine with. I want everyone to know. I just want to make sure you’re fine with it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I love you.” Aziraphale was torn between his near-pathological shyness and his growing desire to somehow openly rebel somehow against his abusive family, especially after watching his father in that horrible interview. “Is it bad that I want all of them to know that someone actually loves me the way I am?”

Crowley didn’t have to ask who “all of them” were. He broke into a grin and pulled Aziraphale into his arms. “My beautiful bastard angel, we’re not only going to show them, we’re going to rub their faces in it, as Tianna would say.”

“I can just imagine the meltdown. His head is going to explode.” Aziraphale leaned his head on Crowley’s shoulder. “Which would make a horrid mess if there were anything in it.” He realized what he’d said a second too late and looked up at Crowley wide-eyed, one hand over his mouth. 

“Not to mention it would be a toxic waste spill,” Crowley deadpanned. “You’d need a Hazmat team to deal with all the fallout.” He kissed Aziraphale’s nose. 

“I shouldn’t have said that. I need to be good…” Aziraphale looked away. “That was bad.”

“No, angel. It was good.” Crowley realized he needed to learn a lot more about trauma and recovery. Aziraphale was going to need all the help he could get. “And listen, while I’m still thinking this – if you do decide on therapy and they want me to come along, I totally will.”

“Why would you need to? I mean – I’m the one who’s damaged goods.” Aziraphale looked down. “I still feel like I should have told you all this when you could still have gotten rid of me. Not that you still can’t, I mean…”

“Angel, listen to me.” Crowley put his hands on Aziraphale’s face, gently lifting his head so their eyes met. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t have any frame of reference for what you’ve been put through, but I’ll do whatever it takes to help you get past it.”

“Crowley, you just being you helps me so much. You’re always so kind and so patient with me. You make me feel like I’m not completely broken.”

“Oh, angel.” Crowley hugged him. “We’re all broken in our own ways. My brain short-circuits whenever I try to concentrate on anything. You know I basically need to be drugged just to function. And even then it’s iffy.”

“You do fine from what I’ve seen.” 

“It takes a lot of work some days, though. It’s exhausting. I’d be screwed if I had to do what you do for a living. I’d never be able to keep up. Seriously. I watch you, Maddy and Holly at the office and I can’t figure out how you do it. You all have so much going on sometimes and you never lose track of anything and – it’s amazing.” 

“I’d never done anything like it before. Gabriel thought I wouldn’t be able to. He kept waiting for me to fail at it.” Aziraphale sat down on the sofa and Crowley joined him. “I made him angry when I didn’t. He demanded that I quit and I told him no. He didn’t like that. At all. That was actually what led to him walking out – ghosting me, Maddy said.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t beat the crap out of you.”

“He gave me a black eye as a parting gift.” Aziraphale made a wry, sad face. “I worry about Vikki. She’s kind of naïve. When he loses patience with her, it’s not going to be pretty.”

“I hate him. I hate everyone who’s ever hurt you. You’re the sweetest, softest thing ever and I can’t figure out why they did what they did to you. Who do they think they are?”

“I don’t know.” Aziraphale snuggled against him. “Hold me?”

“Oh, angel.” Crowley hugged him. 

Aziraphale sighed happily, nestling closer. “How formal is this party going to be?”

“It’s not black tie or anything like that.” Crowley kissed the top of his head. Aziraphale looked up to steal a quick kiss on the mouth. 

“You’re so patient with me,” Aziraphale said softly when their lips parted. _You make me believe that I’m worth being loved._ That last thought brought him up short. _Where did THAT come from? I’m not. Am I…?_

“Angel? You okay?” Crowley had seen the chaotic mix of emotions in his angel’s eyes. 

“I think so…” Aziraphale looked away, then back. “Maybe. I think I – maybe - am.” He paused. “I hope I’m not totally boring you, being here.”

Crowley kissed his nose. “Angel, this is my favorite Christmas ever so far.”

“Better than the one where you got the bike, huh?” Tianna said, coming in. 

“We don’t talk about bike club,” Crowley deadpanned. 

“Why?” Aziraphale remembered his brothers getting bicycles for their birthdays and the glee that had ensued. It had looked like fun. He’d never been on one. 

“He fell off of it the next day and broke his arm,” Tianna said.

“You’re making me look uncool in front of my boyfriend,” Crowley protested. 

“In all fairness, Crow-Crow, I think you’re taking care of that all by yourself.” Even Aziraphale could sense the deep affection behind Tianna’s teasing. There was absolutely none of the malice that he was accustomed to from his brothers. 

“Mom! Tianna’s picking on me!” Crowley looked toward the kitchen.

“Good. You deserve it.” Anna’s voice was playful. 

“Sheesh.” Crowley rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, then looked at Aziraphale, who was watching the whole exchange, his wide-eyed bewilderment turning to amusement as he realized none of it was serious save for the bicycle part. “See what I have to put up with? And yes, I’m a total klutz. Not to mention moron. I got in my seven-year-old head that I could take it down the driveway – you know how steep the driveway going up to the house is – and it would give me enough speed to learn to balance on it. Well, I got enough speed all right, but as for balance…”

“Given that on a good day you can’t walk and chew bubble gum at the same time,” Tianna said. 

“I really wish I could argue with that,” Crowley said. “Although I found out that coming back from Christmas break with a bright red cast makes you instantly cool. So that helped a little.”

“He was so afraid that he was going to get in trouble that he tried to hide that he was hurt at first,” Anna said, coming in. “But it was kind of a dead giveaway when he couldn’t use his arm.” She smiled at Crowley and rumpled his hair. 

He leaned into her touch a bit, then looked up at her. “Hey, if I’d have been my parents. I’d have killed me for that stunt.”

“Which is why you’re not your parents, dear,” she replied. “We did have a talk with him about being a little more careful and not hiding when you’re hurt, but not until we had him fixed up and back safely home.” 

“They didn’t even scold me,” Crowley said, looking at Aziraphale. “Just sat down with me and told me not to be afraid to ask for help if I was trying to figure something out. And to never try to hide if I’d hurt myself because it could be something serious. I even got an ice cream cake out of the deal.” 

“Actually, we already had the ice cream cake. I’d bought it the other day,” Anna said.

“For Christmas?” Aziraphale said. 

“Not really. I just wanted an ice cream cake.” Anna said. “Total impulse purchase. And I should have kept my mouth shut, because now I want one and I’m pretty sure that Tesco’s closed.” She smiled at Aziraphale, then absently smoothed his rumpled curls back into place. “How are you holding up, sweetie?”

“Okay, I guess. If my father would just shut up and stay off the TV.” He looked up at her, all big sad blue eyes. 

“Your father is a perfectly horrible person. I don’t even know how he could have produced a child as sweet as you.” She squeezed his hand. “Crowley’s talked about you so much. I’m glad we finally got to meet you.”

~*~

Two days later, back home, Aziraphale – who was still getting used to the idea of thinking of anywhere as “home” – was watching Crowley drag the third of three large flat boxes into the front room. Hastur and Ligur had brought them up. Aziraphale, feeling a bit bolder since their last meeting, had had a bag of Christmas cookies waiting for them. Crowley was pretty sure they were going to get packages first from now on, judging from the reaction. 

Aziraphale came to look as Crowley set the box down. “What is it?”

“Not sure. It’s…” Crowley broke off with a yelp of joy. “Plant stands!”

“Your parents know you, all right,” Aziraphale said with a smile, looking around at the indoor rainforest talking over the window wall. As he’d discovered, Crowley almost never went anywhere shopping without coming home with a plant. Or two. Or more. Several new acquisitions were currently lined up on the breakfast table awaiting either cachepots or repots, including yet another poinsettia that Crowley had taken pity on. It was showing its appreciation at being rescued from Tesco’s discount rack by thoughtfully dropping leaves everywhere. Aziraphale was starting to learn the names – peace lily, domino peace lily, Chinese evergreen, pothos, hoya, heartleaf philodendron, mounding philodendron, weeping fig, dracaena, majesty palm, kentia palm, Christmas cacti, orchids – including Oncidium Sharry Baby ‘Sweet Fragrance’ – which Crowley had told him would smell like chocolate and vanilla when it finally bloomed again – Norfolk Island pine, anthuriums, rex and angelwing begonias, jade plant, aloe, croton, snake plants, spider plants, grape ivy, peperomias…to name a few.

Mehitibel wasn’t the only one with a plant-based addiction, it seemed. 

Aziraphale had gone to help Crowley with the boxes. “You’re probably going to need a bigger stand,” he deadpanned. He’d never seen _Jaws_ , but Holly riffed on the “bigger boat” line with some regularity, and he’d picked it up. 

“I bet I can get the smaller ones off the floor with these,” he said. “I really want a variegated monstera, but I can’t justify dropping a couple grand on a stem cutting with a couple of nodes in the hopes that it’ll root.”

“I don’t know what any of that is. Except expensive,” Aziraphale admitted. He was going to have to see if there were any houseplant books amid Crowley’s collection – and get some if there weren’t. 

“Swiss cheese plant.” Crowley found a picture on his phone. “See?”

“Oh wow.” The huge, frilled and lacy leaf was patterned a lovely green and white. “Why are they so expensive?”

“They’re rare and of course, everyone wants one. I’m going to wait until they get more common and the price comes down.” He put the phone down and kissed Aziraphale on the nose. “I’m a geek, what can I say? And here you thought you landed a cool boyfriend.” He looked slightly sheepish and apologetic. “I’m probably driving you up the wall with this, aren’t I?”

“Your plants? No. I think it’s interesting,” Aziraphale said. He found the instructions for assembling the first stand as Crowley finished unboxing the parts. “Want me to read these while you put it together?”

“Please?” Crowley made big amber eyes at him. “I promise you a blow job in return.”

“When you put it that way, how can I say no? Although you really don’t have to,” Aziraphale said, blushing slightly. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the idea – he was just still getting used to the idea of someone wanting to make love with him – and wanting to make sure he got equal pleasure out of it as well. 

The plant stands turned out to be far easier to assemble than the bookcases. There was a set of three stepped glass-topped bench-style stands and two matching three-tier freestanding ones. It made a nice display in front of the center window – although, as Aziraphale had suspected, they didn’t hold everything. 

“We ought to see if we can find some vintage plant stands,” he suggested, watching Crowley arrange African violets on the second tier of the benches. 

“There are some really cool vintage shops up near where my parents live,” Crowley said, looking around. “After the new year, we’ll make a Saturday of it. Sound good?”

“Yeah.” Aziraphale said. “Actually, just having you to do things with is – well, the best thing ever. Really…” 

“Oh, angel…” Crowley pulled him close and kissed him. “I think we’ve got these arranged enough for now. Right?” 

“I guess…” Aziraphale let out a startled squeak as Crowley scooped him up in his arms and carried him to the bedroom. 

~*~ 

“Angel? You awake?”

“I think the more accurate question is “am I conscious?” Aziraphale looked up at Crowley with a sleepy-eyed smile. They were snuggled in bed together, having just made love for the second time in an hour. 

“Silly angel.” Crowley kissed the top of his head. “You’re too much.”

“But you love me in spite of it.” The words were out before Aziraphale could think, thanks to the lingering effects of orgasm brain. 

“Because of it.” Crowley said with a laugh, hugging him tighter. 

Aziraphale snuggled closer, relieved. “I love you, too. And yeah, I’m awake. More or less.” 

Crowley hugged him tighter, nuzzling into his hair. He loved how Aziraphale was getting comfortable enough – and brave enough – to tease him/banter with him. “I was just thinking, love…”

“About what?”

“You’re supposed to express shock at the idea that I was actually thinking in the first place.”

“I was going to express the hope that it involved me tied to the bed and a lot of whipped cream.”

Crowley let out something between a bark and snort of laughter and hugged Aziraphale tighter. “You are one very kinky angel, know that?” He looked at the headboard. “And I didn’t pick this with bondage in mind.”

“It doesn’t _have_ to be the bed, you know.”

“You’re a mess.” Crowley kissed him tenderly. He wasn’t actually opposed to the idea; he just hadn’t expected it coming from Aziraphale. “But no, I was actually thinking something else.”

“What?”

“I think I have the perfect idea what we should wear for the New Year’s party…”

~*~

Crowley hadn’t been kidding when he said the Hollywood Records New Year’s Party was a big deal. Pretty much every news outlet, entertainment outlet, music magazine and blog had someone there, hoping to catch a glimpse of the arrivals.

Roger Taylor and his partner Debbie were the first to arrive, followed shortly after by John and Vera Deacon. Brian May and Maddy Baker were next, then Holly and Beez. 

Then, the gleaming white and gold limo pulled up, bearing Freddie and Tianna along with Crowley and Aziraphale.

The Mercurys emerged first, Freddie looking elegant in black and white and Tianna wearing a vintage gold Lurex dress. Crowley got out next, dressed in snug black leather, his hair in tangled red waves, looking every bit the badass rock star. He looked around with a smile, holding out his arm for his angel to take as he got out. Aziraphale was dressed all in creams and soft browns, looking every bit like an angel from a painting come to life and trying to masquerade as a young Victorian gentleman.

“That’s her cousin, right? David Lowe and Anna Sheen’s son?”

“That’s him. But who is he with? He looks like an angel!”

“Oh my God, they’re adorable!”

Crowley stole a quick kiss before they started up the _red carpet?_ accompanied by much fanfare and flashbulbs. Aziraphale was torn between sheer terror and a sort of hysterical elation, but he managed to stay composed by clinging tightly to Crowley’s arm. 

“I wasn’t expecting that…” he said when they were safely inside. 

“Me neither. But you did great, love.” Crowley kissed his nose. 

The next couple of hours were a bit of a whirlwind. Crowley hadn’t been kidding when he said just about everyone would be there. In short order, Aziraphale found himself introduced to Mike Peters and his wife Jules from the Alarm, Nick Rhodes and Simon LeBon from Duran Duran, Adele, The Pet Shop Boys and Alison Moyet. 

“Told you this was a big deal, angel,” Crowley said when they had a moment to themselves. “Are you okay so far?”

Aziraphale nodded. “Just stay close to me, please?” Everyone had been really nice so far. He’d been afraid of how everyone might react given his father’s recent interviews. Jules had confided to him that she and her husband had in fact seen the one with Graham Norton, and been quite horrified. _You’re lucky to be well away from there, Zira._

“Crowley!” 

Crowley looked around and broke into a smile. “Mick? I thought you were in New York!”

Photographer Mick Rock grinned. “I was. I came back for the holidays. So – who’s the angel?” Crowley and his boyfriend were the most adorably mismatched couple he’d ever seen, made all the more adorable by the degree to which they obviously adored each other. He hoped they’d let him photograph them at some point. 

“Angel?” Crowley’s grin grew wider. 

“You haven’t heard everyone here? They keep asking who Crowley’s angel is.” Mick said as Aziraphale watched, looking both nervous and like he was trying not to look nervous. 

“W-who are they talking about?” Aziraphale pressed against Crowley, who put an arm around him, hugging him tight. 

“You,” Crowley said, kissing his nose. He looked back at Mick. “This is Aziraphale Shepard. My angel. Angel, This is Mick Rock. He did the photography for several of Queen’s albums.”

“Everyone j-just calls me Zira, though,” Aziraphale said softly, looking down. 

Crowley gave him a quick, reassuring little snuggle. 

“Mick, darling!” Freddie swept over, draping an arm around Mick’s shoulders. “You didn’t tell me you were back! And I see you’ve met our dear Zira.”

“Just now,” Mick said. “I’m hoping he and Crowley might consent to a photo session at some point?”

“You can do their engagement photos, dear. I’m sure that won’t be long in coming,” Freddie said. 

“Freddie…” Crowley blushed. 

“Darlings, you’re perfect for one another. Absolutely perfect!” Freddie chided.

Aziraphale didn’t think Crowley would ever actually want to get married – their conversation after their first night together notwithstanding – but he permitted himself a brief flight of fancy of walking down the aisle while Crowley waited at the alter – and realized it wouldn’t work. He didn’t have anyone to come to it who wasn’t on Crowley’s side. And he couldn’t very well do the walk down the aisle without someone to give him away – and they’d already gleefully gotten rid of him long before now. He didn’t think to wonder why he was casting himself as the proverbial blushing bride in it. He leaned a little closer against Crowley while he, Mick and Freddie chatted, suddenly feeling a little tired and very overwhelmed. It would pass in a few minutes, he knew, but right now he just needed the physical contact.   
Crowley hugged him tighter. “How are you holding up, angel?”

“I’m okay. Just stay close to me.” Aziraphale looked up at him and Crowley kissed his nose.

“Don’t look now, but guess what the cat dragged in,” Mick said all at once, making a face.

They all looked anyway, of course. 

“Dear, that’s quite offensive. Cats have _standards_ , you know,” Freddie said. 

It was of course Gabriel, accompanied by Vikki and a short, baseball-capped, vaguely Woody-Allenish figure. 

“What’s _he_ doing here?” Crowley made a face. “As if one or the other isn’t bad enough.”

“Who’s the other?” Aziraphale said. 

“Darren Bell. Maddy’s ex,” Crowley said. 

“The one who made that horrid movie about – what was it about, anyway?” Aziraphale realized it was impossible to sum up the plot of _A Man’s World_ because apart from racism, sexism and homophobia, it didn’t really have one. “My father is quite enamored of him. My brother Sandalphon talks about him speaking truth to power, whatever that means.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Crowley looked at his angel. “What do you think, love?”

“I think he’s horrid. Not to mention horridly full of himself.”

“Pretty much. He used to come around the office more. I was there a couple of times when he did. I think that’s how I got my reputation as a complete asshole.” Crowley looked sheepish. “I might have told him off pretty good when he was harassing Maddy, Eliza and Holly.” Darren had come in without an appointment when both Ned and Jim were off with clients and demanded to speak to a “man in charge.” Maddy had told him to get lost. He had replied that he did not take orders from “mere tablepieces,” (whatever that meant) and Crowley, who had come in early for an appointment with Jim and overheard it, had more or less, as Tianna would have said, gone off on him. Darren’s subsequent whining on his “A Man’s Place” blog had turned it into the stuff of legend – although it actually made Crowley look legendary despite Darren’s attempt to prove otherwise. 

“I remember that,” Aziraphale said with a laugh. It had happened just before they met, although Aziraphale hadn’t heard about it until after he’d already gotten to know Crowley just a little. 

“And you probably thought I was a jerk, right?” Crowley gave him a wry, lopsided smile. 

“No. I think it was when I fell in love with you,” Aziraphale said. 

“You…but that was over a year ago.”

“I know.” Aziraphale looked wistful. “I’ve been in love with you since the beginning. I was – just too afraid to say anything. I didn’t think you could ever feel the same way about me, but I – well, you were still my friend, and that meant so much. I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Oh, angel…” Crowley didn’t know what to say, so he settled for kissing him.

“Hey everyone!” It was Holly, looking quite lovely in a shimmery dress in an odd shade between peach and salmon that suited her very well. She was accompanied by her partner Beez, who was petite, dark-haired, slim and dressed in a black suit and white shirt. Aziraphale, drilled in old-school language rules, was still getting used to referring to Beez as “they.” He’d actually found Holly’s petite-but-brooding partner rather intimidating at first, but realized as he got to know them that they were actually quite nice underneath it. The two of them had bonded one day over the shared realization that Gabriel, who had shown up to meet Vikki, had in fact cheated on Aziraphale with Beez at some point during his and Aziraphale’s relationship – if it could in fact have been called that. Aziraphale wasn’t so sure anymore. 

“Darlings!” Freddie greeted them. “And how is everyone doing?”

~*~

Aziraphale looked around as Beez came back over. “What’s going on?” It was an hour or so later. 

“That receptionist of yours cannot hold her alcohol,” Beez said, looking back at Vikki, who was a wavering, inebriated mess. “Although if I were stuck with Gabriel, I’d get blackout drunk, too.”

“Tell me about it,” Aziraphale said. “And I really don’t drink.” It wasn’t his uber-religious upbringing so much as his desire to not consume mass quantities of caloric drinks. He was rather less enamored of his angelic plumpness than Crowley was. 

Beez looked back at him. “Listen, I still feel really bad about that. I knew he wasn’t in it for anything serious, but I had no idea he was cheating on someone. Especially you.” Aziraphale’s surpassing sweetness was enough to make even a committed cynic like them rethink their lack of faith in humanity. 

“Don’t feel bad. It wasn’t you. And maybe – it really wasn’t – me...” That brought him up short. He was so accustomed to blaming himself for anything and everything bad that happened to him. So conditioned to believe that he was always wrong, always at fault. So used to believing that he wasn’t worth bothering with. But maybe – just maybe – it hadn’t always been him. 

“Of course it wasn’t you. He was too stupid to appreciate what he had. Or could have had.” Beez gave him a lopsided smile. “Crowley’s not much brighter sometimes, but at least he can tell a good thing when he sees it. Even if it took him a year to actually do something about it.”

“You taking my name in vain over here, Beez?” Crowley said with a grin, coming over and putting an arm around Aziraphale’s waist. 

“Just telling your boyfriend what a dumbass you are,” Beez shot back with a grin. 

“I think he’s figured that out already,” Crowley said, hugging Aziraphale closer and kissing the top of his head. 

“Better a dumbass than an asshole, though.” Beez looked pointedly over at Gabriel, who was chatting up a record company executive while about twenty feet away, Vikki teetered drunkenly on her spike heels. 

“I feel so bad for her,” Holly said, joining them. 

“Hey you!” A large and unhappy man abruptly strode up to Gabriel, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around. “You’re the shit who fucked my ex-wife!”

“Sir, I’m afraid there’s been some…” Gabriel started. 

“It was supposed to be the happiest fucking day of my life until you fucking came along!” the man raged. The executive Gabriel had been chatting up had stepped back. “You fucking took all that away from me!”

Aziraphale had put a hand over his mouth and looked at Crowley, who was looking at him, wide-eyed. 

“What on earth?” Maddy had joined them along with Brian, who, in light of Darren being there, was not leaving her side. 

“What is he talking about?” Brian said. 

“The Grand. The Christmas party.” Crowley looked at them. “Remember how there was that wedding going on across the way?”

“Gabriel - got biblical – with the bride in the men’s loo before the ceremony,” Aziraphale said. “Crowley and I saw them leaving.” He didn’t add the bit about almost walking in on them. 

“No fucking way!” Brian’s eyes went very wide. 

“Actually, that’s exactly what they were doing. Apparently,” Crowley said. 

“Sir, I’m very sure I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Gabriel tried to say.

“You fucking liar! You fucked her! In the men’s loo right before we were supposed to be married! The happiest fucking day of a man’s life and you fucking took that from me!”

“Sir, I do _not_ know what you’re talking about…” Gabriel tried. 

“Liar! You lost your fucking condom up her fucking pussy, you lying bastard! I went to fuck her and it fell out!” the man bellowed, bringing every conversation in the room to a screeching halt. 

“I…” Gabriel suddenly had no words. 

“He never was good about picking up after himself,” Aziraphale said the instant after the room fell silent, not realizing it had until a second too late.

Crowley, who had taken a sip from his glass at exactly the wrong moment, just barely avoided snorting champagne out of his nose – or choking on it – as laughter rippled through the room. Aziraphale put both hands over his mouth as Beez put a hand over their mouth to stifle a bark of laughter. Holly looked from the altercation to them and back again, wide-eyed. 

The jilted ex-groom looked around. “Who the fuck are _you_?!” The pain behind the rage in his eyes made them all wince. 

“His ex. One of them.” Aziraphale looked mournful. “He was never faithful.”

“Fuck you, Az-Raphael. Just shut up and die already—” Gabriel’s mocking retort was interrupted by Vikki abruptly running over as best she could in her high heels and pushing him.

“You bastard! How could you?!” she yelled. “I thought you loved me!”

Gabriel shoved her away without a word, grim-faced. 

Aziraphale, meanwhile, had approached the raging ex-groom. “Listen. Don’t hit him. Don’t get yourself in trouble on his account. It isn’t worth it. He isn’t worth it. You’re worth much more than he is.” He shot Gabriel a dirty look. “And it’s _a-ZIRA-fayle,_ remember? Or did you bang your brains out along with you dignity and self-respect?”

Crowley watched, wide-eyed. _Atta angel. You tell him._

“All right! Go Zira!” Brian said, half under his breath. He was grinning. Maddy, Beez and Holly all exchanged approving glances. 

The jilted man started, then took a deep, shuddering breath and sank into the nearest chair, hands over his face. “Fuck. It just hurts, though. It fucking hurts. It was supposed to be the beginning of everything and it was the end.” He looked at Aziraphale. “I know it wasn’t me, but still…”

“I know. Believe me. I went so long thinking it was something I did to deserve it…” Aziraphale started.

“If you were a good enough lay to keep someone happy, I wouldn’t have had to get rid of you. But you’re a worthless little – nothing!” Gabriel snapped. “You’re nothing! You’re not worth the trouble! You don’t deserve to be fucked, you fat worthless pig, never mind loved!” It was the line that had at one point been guaranteed to bring Aziraphale to tears and he knew it. 

Aziraphale started to look around, his eyes briefly meeting Crowley’s…

_”You don’t think I’m too...heavy?”_

_“Oh fuck, no. I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You’re like some Renaissance painting that came to life. Like an angel who fell in love with a demon.”_

Crowley started forward, then stopped when Aziraphale gave him the slightest sly grin. He turned to face Gabriel, calm and composed in a way they’d only caught glimpses of before. 

“Gabriel, if you’d been at all decent to me, I would have been everything you ever wanted. I would have given you my heart and soul. I would have been the best thing that ever happened to you. But you’re just like my father. You don’t love anything except maybe yourself. And I really doubt that, because if you did love yourself, you wouldn’t treat everyone else like they don’t matter.” Aziraphale couldn’t believe he was saying what he was saying – and with pretty much everyone at the party staring at them, too. 

Crowley’s lopsided smirk became a huge grin. _You tell him, angel._

“Because you’re a worthless fat piece of shit. You weren’t even worth shoving my dick into,” Gabriel sneered. “Why would anyone want you? You’re broken.”

“I know I am. But I don’t go around breaking other people to compensate for it.”

“Ooh, big words. You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I…” Aziraphale realized. “Yeah, you know what? I do.”

“You’re a stupid fat worthless pig is what you are! Nobody wants you!” He couldn’t believe the fat little idiot was actually fighting back, not cringing away and crying like he was supposed to. 

“Crowley does. And he was willing to wait as long as it took until I figured it out,” Aziraphale shot back. “He’s everything you’ll never be. And you’ve already caused enough damage here. So sod off!” 

Gabriel’s reply was interrupted by Crowley, who had come over and put an arm around Aziraphale’s waist. 

“Shut up, Gabriel.” Crowley’s voice was low, dangerous. “Zira’s right. I think you’d best sod off and call it a night, hmm?” He pulled Aziraphale against him and kissed him softly and quite deliberately on the mouth, to thunderous applause. 

Gabriel started to say something, thought the better of it and stalked off. 

Crowley glared after him for a moment, then looked at Aziraphale. “You okay, angel?”

Aziraphale nodded, pressing against him with a shudder as he realized the enormity of what he’d just done. _I just told him to sod off…_

Jim had come over to talk to the ex-groom. Holly and Beez had gone in search of Vikki, who had long since run off. 

“It really wasn’t me, was it?” Aziraphale looked at Crowley. “I know I won’t be thinking this tomorrow, but I can say it now. He was the one who wasn’t worth being with. Not me.” He was trembling, wide-eyed and very pale, but it felt like a weight he hadn’t even known he was carrying had lifted off his shoulders. _It really wasn’t me._

Crowley gazed at him in adoration and rapt wonder. “I am so _fucking_ proud to be yours right now, angel. The way you handled that was just – brilliant.” He hugged Aziraphale tight. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Aziraphale had to cling to him for a few minutes until he felt like his legs weren’t about to go out from under him. He finally looked back up. 

“Zira?” Jim said, grinning. “That really was brilliant.”

“Was he like that when you were with him?” the jilted groom asked. 

Aziraphale nodded. “He’s a horrid person. I see it now. I’m very sorry about what he did. I wish there were something I could do.”

“You did do something. You kept me from making a very big mistake just now,” the man said. “I was this close to snapping his neck.”

“Zira?” Eliza had pushed her way through the crowd. “Is everyone all right?”

He nodded. “We’re fine. As much as we all can be.”

“Thanks to him. Whoever named him after an angel knew their stuff,” the jilted ex-groom said. 

“I’m so sorry about that,” Eliza said. “By the way, I’m Eliza McCallister. I work with Jim and Zira.”

“Lucas. Lucas Murray.” The jilted man – Lucas – offered a hand to shake.

Aziraphale looked back at Crowley, who kissed his nose.

“ _Now_ do you believe that you’re worth loving?” he said gently.

“Crowley, I…” Aziraphale broke off, looking away, then back. “Is it bad that right now, maybe – I do?”

“No, that’s good. That’s very good.” Crowley pulled him close for another kiss. “And I do love you, you know. You really are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I love you, too.” Aziraphale leaned his head on his boyfriend’s – _yes, he really could say that, couldn’t he?!_ – shoulder.

“Zira?” It was Mike Peters. “You were amazing. That was about to turn really ugly.”

“It wasn’t worth Lucas getting himself into trouble over,” Aziraphale said. “I mean, I know how he feels – I mean, it was done to me – but still…” He looked around. “Is Vikki all right?”

“Your two friends and Jules went to see about her,” Mike said. “Beez and – oh heck.”

“Holly,” Crowley said. “Poor Vikki. She didn’t deserve that.”

“I hope she doesn’t go back to him,” Aziraphale said. “I don’t think she knew he was my ex until just now, either.” Part of him could not believe that any of this was actually happening – and that he wasn’t completely humiliated at the thought of having been the center of attention.

“I hope not, too,” Crowley said. 

“You do know that everyone’s calling you Crowley’s angel now?” Mike said to Aziraphale. 

“They are?” Aziraphale’s eyes went wide. 

“I told you that everyone was going to know that you’re my angel,” Crowley said, kissing Aziraphale’s nose. 

~*~

“I never would have expected that,” Aziraphale said. “Although I never would have expected most of what happened to have actually happened.”

“What do you mean?” Crowley looked at him. It was an hour or so later, almost midnight, and they were up in the rooftop garden with a group of other revelers, about to count down to the New Year and watch the fireworks over the Thames. 

“You. Falling in love with me.” Aziraphale looked at him.

“This is only the beginning, you know,” Crowley said. 

“Of what?”

“Us. Crowley and Zira.”

Around them the chant started: “Ten…nine…eight…seven…”

Crowley pulled Aziraphale into his arms. “To the world!”

Aziraphale smiled. “To us.”

“Three…two…one…HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!”

Big Ben struck midnight and the fireworks exploded above London Bridge just as their lips met in a long, tender kiss.


	14. Epilogue

Epilogue:

_Excerpted from Agnes N’s Nice and Accurate Music News Roundup blog:  
…and last but not least, it looks like the rumors are true and guitarist Crowley Deveraux-Gordon and secretary Aziraphale Shepard are indeed a (very happy!) couple, judging from the picture-perfect kiss they shared at Hollywood Records’ New Year’s Eve party. Crowley is, of course, the son of David Lowe and Anna Sheen and his adorable earth angel Aziraphale (which is pronounced “uh-ZIRA-fayle,” by the way!) is the son of controversial theologian and author Dr. Ezekiel J. Shepard, who recently resigned from his teaching position at St. Luke’s University over “ideological differences.” We at the Roundup wish them the best and happiest New Year ever…. _

The accompanying photo was indeed of their rooftop midnight kiss just as the fireworks started going off above the bridge. Mick had snapped it. There were also three other photos taken at the party, one with Freddie and Tianna and one taken as they were going in, both glancing back at the photographer with Crowley holding Aziraphale’s hand. In the third, they were obviously not aware of the photographer. It was the two of them when they were first talking to Mick. Aziraphale was standing pressed nervously against Crowley, who had a protective arm around him. 

“Oh my God!” Rose Pratchett exclaimed, putting a hand over her mouth in a gesture almost identical to a certain earth angel’s. “Aunt Tracy, come look!”

“What is it, dear?” 

“It’s Zira…” Her voice trailed off. “He got away from there! Oh God, he got away. He’s safe…” _He’s safe and someone loves him._

“Oh heavens! Didn’t he turn out to be a cutie?” Tracy smiled. “He looks just like you. And look at that handsome boyfriend of his. I hear he’s actually a very nice boy.”

“I hope so.”

“We should try to get in touch with him, dear.” 

Rose looked at her sadly. “I’m sure he doesn’t even remember me.”

“He’s your child, dear. I’m sure he remembers you.”

“He doesn’t know it, though. He thinks he’s – theirs. Remember?” Hearing that horrid man on Graham Norton’s show talk about her beloved Aziraphale so nastily had nearly broken her. He wasn’t horrible. He’d been the sweetest thing. And her worst fears about how they would treat him had apparently been borne out. 

“Dear, I’m sure he remembers you. And we need to find him. And the girls.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come....


End file.
